


The Only Constant

by lazy_daze



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_daze/pseuds/lazy_daze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Supernatural and his marriage end around the same time, Jared finds himself at a loss; unsure, frustrated and uninspired - until a series of events give him the spark of an idea to leave the acting world behind and put his energies into following his love for animals and starting up an animal shelter.</p><p>As he works at making the spark into reality, his friendship with Jensen takes some dramatic and unexpected turns, the strength of it being tested as things change around them and more significantly, between them.</p><p>Told mostly through prose, the story is also interspersed with articles, letters, emails, and other ways of looking at the events. Non-AU future fic, some mild infidelity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Constant

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Supernatural & J2 Big Bang challenge 2011. Many thanks to balefully for the amazing beta!

Three things happen on the day of the seventh season wrap party that lead Jared to the decision to change his life: his divorce papers come through, he passes an injured dog on the side of the road, and Jensen nearly gets outed by a bitter ex-boyfriend.

Jared has let go of being actively religious nowadays, but he's never been a total skeptic, and he can't disregard these things all happening on the same day. The day of the final wrap party, the day he says goodbye to the last seven years of his life. Whether it's an act of God or simply lines of fate converging, he knows it means something.

The papers, he was expecting, but he goes still at his breakfast bar anyway when he pulls them out of the envelope with his right hand, left holding a spoon dripping milk into the cereal bowl as he stares at them. The spoon's clattering back into the bowl and he's pressing three to speed dial Gen before he registers that's kind of the whole point; he can't do that any more.

"Jared?"

"Hey," he says dumbly. "I, uh. The papers got here."

"Yes, Jared, I know. I sent them registered mail to arrive today." She sounds impatient and busy. "Is there a problem? You need to get them signed and returned today, because—"

"It's the wrap party."

"Well, yes, but that's tonight, right? Time management isn't your best skill, god knows, but I'm sure you can manage—" She cuts herself off and when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a bitch. I'm just – it's not even eight AM and already today sucks."

"I'm sorry," he says. He wants to ask her about it and make her feel better, but it's not really his place, and he wonders when that instinct will die down. "I didn't mean to bother you, I just thought I should let you know." He stirs the sugary milk around the bowl and feels a little like the child she accused him of being. He wants to tell her how weird this is, how he can't believe he's about to sign away the past two years like they didn't even happen, how he misses her.

"I know, babe," she says, hearing what he's not saying. "But I need you to mail them back today, okay?" She sighs, not unkindly. "This was your idea."

That's not entirely fair. It was a long, _long_ -discussed mutual agreement, but he grants that he was the first to float the D-word.

It was something Jensen had said, though Jared never told Genevieve that.

Jensen had seen Jared after one of his fights with Genevieve – or really, one of their endlessly circular, fraught conversations that had never exactly escalated into a _fight_ , but left Jared as upset and adrenaline-shaky as if they had.

Jensen had a firm look on his face when he made Jared sit down and said, "You know me, you know I'm not the kind of guy to tell you what you need to do with your own life. But, man – you aren't happy. If you aren't happy, you have to change something. Everything else, I get that it's complicated, but that's the bottom line. Change something."

And so Jared had made a decision to do just that, to change something, the first step in a line leading to a divorce. It had seemed like the right thing to do. It _was_ the right thing to do.

It just seems like an awfully lonely place to be, signing away what he'd thought was going to be the rest of his life.

He sighs softly into the phone. "Can I get cold feet?" he says, though the joking tone to it falls somewhat flat.

"Jared, come on. Not now. We both know this is the best for both of us."

"I know. Sorry, I guess it's just kind of crazy having it be real. I miss you."

"I'm coming to Megan's engagement party next month, still. I'm going to be around. You can't get rid of me _that_ easy."

Jared smiles. "Yeah. Good. I know. I'll mail these back today, I promise."

"Thank you, babe. L—bye, Jared."

He finishes his soggy cereal moodily and only realizes he's late when he hears the car honk from outside at the same time his phone starts buzzing next to him. Jensen calling.

"Dude, sorry, I just—" he starts, and Jensen's laugh cuts him off.

"No, no, please, take your time. Take as long as you want. If it's the last day we drive to set, we gotta do it in traditional style, which means I gotta wait for your ass."

It's hard to not imbue every movement with overblown significance. _This is the last time I'll ever put my dish in the sink before going to set. This is the last time I'll ever hurry down the stairs, last time I'll ever push open the door to see Clif's car waiting for me with Jensen inside._

He can't put a name to what he's feeling, now that they're here at the end; it's a powerful enough mix he can't call it anticlimactic, but he always thought he'd be more euphoric, or maybe deeply nostalgic, that almost pleasant pain of missing past times so strongly. He mostly feels aimlessly frustrated, anxious and tired, his belly tight and mouth sour.

He jogs out to the car and pulls the door open with a wry grin. He slides in next to Jensen, who puts his arms up and starts making an obnoxious fanfare, then stops when he sees Jared's face.

"Dude, are you okay?"

"I—" Jared stops. "I don't really know, actually."

"Last day blues? I spent ten minutes deciding on my most appropriate last breakfast as an actor on Supernatural."

"Yeah. Doesn't help I got the papers from Gen this morning."

Jensen faces goes from mildly concerned to full-out sympathetic. "Shit, I'm sorry, man."

"It's—"

"Holy shit!" The car swerves and brakes wildly and the seat belt locks itself over Jared's chest as he's pitched forward, forcing out a painful huff of breath.

"Clif, what the fuck?" snaps Jensen.

"Nearly ran over a fucking dog!"

Jared turns to the window right away, but he can't see anything. "Is it okay?"

"Missed it."

"Why was it in the road in the first place?"

Clif shrugs. "It was just limping across—I don't know."

"What if was hurt? Come on, stop the car, we have to go back to it."

Jensen opens his mouth like he's going to start in on how it'll make them late, so Jared looks at him with big eyes, plays up whatever expression he had on his face that made Jensen worried about him when he got in the car, and only feels a little bad when Jensen sighs and helps him badger Clif into stopping. The car pulls over and reverses a ways down the shoulder until they see the dog in the rearview.

Jared's out the door as soon as the car stops, and he kneels carefully by the dog. It's a small sandy terrier mix, and it's lying on its side as though its hurried limping across the road exhausted it. Its belly rises and falls rapidly in too-fast shaky breaths, and it's trembling all over, a deep tear along its back leg.

Jared's taking his jacket off to cover it carefully when Jensen comes up.

"It's really hurt," he says, tucking the edges of the jacket around it; the dog whines and moves its head as if to snap, but it's too weak and tired. Jared scoops it up in the jacket, stands up with it against his chest. "Jensen, can you google the nearest vet or animal shelter?"

"Seriously? We're late already—"

"I'm not going to leave him here! Jensen, look at his—"

Jensen gives in, nodding quickly and already tapping on his phone, a smile quirking his mouth. "You're such a sap."

Jared scoffs. "Like you're not. You haven't even let yourself look at the little guy because you know you'd be sucked in."

Jensen keeps his eyes on the phone, then bites his lip and flicks his gaze over to the dog, which is quiet but tense and still trembling against Jared's chest. "Are you even sure it's a he?" His gaze stays on the dog.

"Dunno," says Jared. "Not gonna check when it's injured."

"I think it's a girl," muses Jensen, eyes still on the dog, and he briefly reaches out to rub its head lightly; the dog shivers and whines, then seems to calm a little.

 _Gotcha_ , thinks Jared, and grins.

"Uh, guys," starts Clif from where he's leaning out of the car windows. "Bob's calling me. You're already late. I don't think—"

They both turn their heads to look at him, and he raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, it's not me gonna get chewed out. Your last day on set, your last chance to be late." He settles back into the car and makes a point in ostentatiously checking his watch.

Jensen just shrugs. "If it's our last chance to be late, might as well make use of it," he says, then, "Got it! Nearest place is Vancouver Animal Emergency Clinic, about fifteen minutes away." He starts back to the car, and Jared follows more slowly, holding the dog close against his chest.

>   
> 
> 
>   
> !! LOST DOG !!  
> Light brown terrier mix, 15 lbs  
> Answers to "Lucy"  
> Sweet and well behaved!!  
> Reward of my eternal gratitude and a homemade cherry pie.  
> PLEASE call Lynn on 778-786-8557  
> 
> 
>   
> 

 

The receptionist—Maddy, according to her nametag—does a double take when she sees them walk in, eyes flicking between Jared and Jensen, but then her attention is taken up by the dog. She starts a record for him, puts down the license tag number on the collar so they can contact the owners, and has the dog taken to the back for the emergency vet on duty to have a look. Jared gives her as many details about the little guy as he can remember.

"Little girl, actually," she says with a grin after checking in with the vet, and Jared tips his head towards Jensen with a quirk of his mouth.

The vet sticks her head out after a few minutes and says the dog should be okay but there's some messy tearing inside the wound on her leg, and she's going to book her for surgery to make sure it'll heal right.

Jared nods, and the vet grins at him reassuringly, as if it were his own dog, before going back into the room.

Jared looks around. It's bright and smells like a mix between a doctor's office and a pet store, clean and alive; he can hear the sounds of the animals through the wide doorway past the lobby, people moving around, talking to the animals, someone sweeping, a radio playing low.

His cell vibrates in his pocket, but he ignores it; then Jensen's goes off a few minutes later. Jensen glances at him apologetically. "It's Bob. We should really get going."

Jared stops himself from looking around the place and sighs. "I guess. Look," he says to Maddy, "give me a call to let me know how she does, and if you find her owners. Keep me posted, okay?" He flashes her a smile and gives her his cell number, and follows Jensen out to the car where Clif is running the engine impatiently.

He moves his shoulders awkwardly back in the car, and realizes he hadn't felt that weight of frustration and restlessness the whole time he was in the clinic and dealing with the dog, but that it's rolling back over him the closer they get to set. The smile fades from his face.

He hates this feeling, because it's not like he doesn't like being on set. He loves it there, it's soaked in a whole mix of memories from the past seven years, overwhelmingly good ones at that, but something about it is setting his teeth on edge right now. It's reminding him of regrets instead of achievements, knocking open that door in his head marked _FUTURE_ , sending fretful worry through him where he should be looking forward excitedly.

Jensen nudges him with an elbow. "Seriously, man. You don't look so good."

Jared shakes his head and leans back in the seat. "I don't know. Sorry, dude. I'm dragging down our last day."

Jensen nudges him again, then leaves his elbow wedged against Jared's arm; it makes Jared feel a little better. Jensen's always had a calming effect on him, a grounding sort of comfort that he needs when things seem to be rocketing forward without anything he can do to stop them.

"Thanks," he says, and it must come out weird because Jensen glances over at him, eyebrow raised in that intensely familiar Jensen way.

"For?"

"You know. The past seven years and everything."

Jensen rubs a hand over his face. "Christ," he says, "save that sappy shit for at least three beers in at the party tonight, please," he says, but he keeps his pointy elbow jammed into the meat of Jared's bicep, the discomfort welcome.

\--

One of Jared's friends—not one of his closest ones, but one of his first new friends he made coming to Hollywood—had once told him that every friendship, especially in this town, will get fucked up one day, and it will be because of one of two things: money or sex.

Jared didn't necessarily believe him about the inevitability of things getting fucked up, but he'd seen enough to know he was pretty on the money with the fact it was always gonna be one of those.

With Jensen, it had nearly been sex that had fucked them up. The whole realization had smacked him across the face in a shocking sort of way that messed them up for at least a month. Jared thought he was the only one aware of how close they'd come to an irreparable break; Jensen hadn't seemed to have the same problem. Of course, when he wanted to be, Jensen was impossible to read, so Jared could never be sure; maybe Jensen had felt the crack in their foundation as keenly as Jared had before it had closed itself back up. Mostly.

The beginning of the problem was the result of alcohol, of course. Jared was still reeling a little from the mess with Sandy, and intensely grateful to Jensen for being there for him. With the two of them living together, their friendship had reached a peak in its intensity, and if Jared had had enough wherewithal to step back and look at the situation objectively, he probably would have seen it coming. But at the time, he'd hardly noticed that his affection for Jensen had started to get all mixed up with the roiling feelings that had nowhere to go without Sandy.

Drunk one night, too many beers at too many bars, they'd stumbled home in that dead time of night that was too late and too early for anything to feel real.

Jared sat down heavily on the couch in the living room and pulled Jensen down to sit next to him, except he'd pulled clumsily and Jensen stumbled and ended up sprawled over him, lying half on Jared, half on the couch.

The solid warmth of Jensen on him had made Jared feel strange, giddy. Jensen had dropped his head onto the arm of the couch, his neck vulnerable, his face creased with laughter, mouth red in the low light.

Jared had thought, fiercely, _I love you_ , and it hadn't felt wrong at the time, because of course he loved him. Jensen was one of his best friends, and he was so important, and he was _Jensen_. He was the best thing about this whole experience.

But Jensen shifted on his lap and turned his head to look up at Jared. Jared leaned down in a slow, thoughtless drunken haze, and kissed Jensen, fitting his mouth easily over the soft openness of Jensen's. He'd licked at the wet inside of Jensen's mouth and felt a sharp, hot clench in his gut. He'd put one hand on the rough, stubbled line of Jensen's jaw, the other spread over Jensen's firm, strong thigh. He'd been so male, so familiar, and Jared had gotten hard in that unbelievable, impossible way sex felt when you were the right level of drunk.

Jensen laughed into his mouth, but hadn't pulled away, and kissed Jared back after Jared bit down on the soft swell of his lip. He'd made a quiet sound in his throat that sent a hot thrill prickling over Jared's skin, and his hand skidded up Jared's shoulder, rucking up his shirt, until it fell into Jared's hair, tangling there, giving a slight tug that felt really fucking good. Jared went with the tug, let his mouth drag over Jensen's cheek, the unfamiliar friction of stubble against his lips lighting him up and sending shivers down his spine. He sucked the taste of sweat and smoke and faint cologne from Jensen's neck, then found his plush, wet mouth again and couldn't stop giving it little sharp bites, giddy in the give of plump flesh under his teeth.

Jensen had been into it, opening his mouth dirty wide and sliding his tongue right into Jared's mouth to rub over Jared's teeth, the roof of his mouth. Jared felt hot and ready all over, but he couldn't move, couldn't do anything but kiss Jensen fiercely. Maybe if he'd had a few more minutes, a bit less or a bit more to drink, he could've moved, could've slid his hand up the firm slope of Jensen's thigh, found his zipper and—

But Jensen shifted, breaking the kiss with a wet noise that echoed in the dim, silent room. He grinned up at Jared with a drunk, lazy smile, eyes half lidded, and laughed. "I am so fucking drunk," he said, and rolled his head into the side of the couch. "Fuck. Tomorrow morning is gonna suck."

Whatever strange spell that had caught Jared was broken then, and he didn't even mind. It was just Jensen, his friend; they were just messing around because they were drunk and everyone could get a little bit gay when they were drunk. Jared knew Jensen had messed around with guys before and he guessed he'd just been curious. He tipped Jensen off his lap onto the floor and called him a heavy bastard, and softened the blow by getting him a glass of water. The next morning Jensen acted like absolutely nothing had happened, so much that Jared thought he'd dreamed it until he saw a faint red mark low down on Jensen's neck.

It took him a week of uncharacteristic melancholy before he figured out he'd fallen a little bit in love with Jensen that night. It was dumb, because they were just friends. Jared knew he was rebounding hard, and that Jensen was pretty happy with his girlfriend. It was a stupid time and Jared had never even felt like that about any guy before, and if he'd said anything, it would have screwed things up completely, he knew it.

For a few weeks, he thought it might get screwed up anyway, because Jensen was hard to ignore once you realized you were attracted to him. It was infatuation, though, and eventually the things that made Jensen a good friend came back around to eclipse the things that made Jared want him, and they settled back into an equilibrium like before.

They never talked about it, and Jared was never quite sure if Jensen even really remembered it. There were looks, quiet moments between the two of them where he thought, maybe—but it always passed.

Then Jared met Genevieve, not that long after, and it made things so much easier. She was gorgeous and perfect and he fell right into love like he'd never been hurt by it before, and for a while it was everything he'd dreamed about.

Even once it fell apart with Gen, the old Jensen Thing wasn't an issue. Sometimes he'd catch himself staring at Jensen's mouth and if he wasn't careful—tired or distracted or just weak in that moment—it'd spiral into a full-on Technicolor sense memory of how his mouth had felt against Jared's, the memory stronger than Jared would've expected even with nearly four years' distance. But it was fine, he'd been dealing with that since it had happened. It was in the past, and what he had with Jensen was always going to be too important to risk.

\--

>   
>  _November 3rd, 2009_  
>  TO: Josh  
> Just proposed to Danni, she said yes.  
> STATUS: Sent
> 
> FROM: Josh  
> CONGRATULATIONS BRO! Mom is gonna cry u know  
> STATUS: Read
> 
> TO: Josh  
> Yeah I'm going to call her later. Best man? :-)  
> STATUS: Sent
> 
> FROM: Josh  
> Ha ha I thought Id only get a chance at best man if u were marrying Jared!  
> STATUS: Read
> 
> TO: Josh  
> Dude not cool/funny.  
> STATUS: Sent
> 
> FROM: Josh  
> Touchy! Yeah honored to be your best man. Love you lots bro & congrats again.  
> STATUS: Read  
> 

\--

It's mostly a useless day anyway, once they get to set. Pick-up shots and extra angles that Jared and Jensen, after seven years, know they don't really need. The set feels like that last day of school, no one focused, except there isn't that giddy sense of imminent freedom.

Jared goofs off like he usually does even though he doesn't exactly feel it. He plays it up, not sure if he's doing it because it's what people expect from him or if it's because this is his last chance, but things are okay for the first half of the day. Jared's mood lifts and he doesn't force it after a while, and his delight at making Jensen or Misha stumble over their lines and break character with a grin is as genuine as ever.

At least until Jensen picks up his phone on a break and swears loudly, shuts himself in his trailer and won't open it to Jared's pounding until fifteen minutes after they're both due back on set.

"What the hell—" starts Jared, then stops when he sees Jensen's face.

Jensen shakes his head. "Sorry. Emergency damage control with the agent." He waves Jared in, shuts the door behind him, and sighs. "You remember Blake, that guy I hooked up with a few times in the second year of filming?"

"Sure," says Jared slowly, not exactly sure where this is going but not feeling good about it.

Jensen shakes his head, mouth tight with anger. "Now he's pulling some asshole move and demanding a cash settlement or he'll out me to the press. He says he has pictures. I'm not even that famous, I thought he was cool, but apparently now we get the kiss and tell _assholes_ from our past showing up. Better hope you have no skeletons in your closet. _Fuck_."

Jared steers Jensen over to the couch and pulls out an emergency beer, then sticks his head out of the door to tell the nervously hovering PA that they'd be a while and that Robert can suck it because it was all busywork they were doing today anyway.

"So what are you gonna do?"

Jensen drops his head into his hands. "I dunno. Pay him off? I hate to do it, but, I just—"

"I—" starts Jared tentatively. "I mean, would it be so bad?"

Jensen looks up. "What? Seriously?"

"Just say, you know, yeah, you're bi, you've had relationships with guys in the past, but you're happily married right now and that's all you care about."

Jensen snorts. "Like anyone's going to believe that."

Jared gestures in frustration. "But it's the truth!"

"Hollywood doesn't care. Hollywood just likes gay scandals."

"But, I mean. Why do you care what Hollywood cares about? Half the things you're looking into for the next year are voicework or behind the camera anyway, you're not exactly aiming to be the Hollywood golden boy so it doesn't matter if you wouldn't be able to get that—"

"Don't tell me what I want, Jared!" says Jensen suddenly, and stands up, paces away from him in the cramped trailer. "It's easy for you to say, but it's not your career and it's not your private life being spread around. Don't look at me like that just because I don't want to come out to the world at large when all it's gonna do is bring a load of speculation and bullshit that's not going to be pleasant for me _or_ for Danni—"

"Sorry," says Jared immediately, walking over. "Sorry, fuck. I know, okay? I just hate that you have to hide shit and worry when it doesn't even make a difference to anyone. I get it. I wish things were better for you."

Jensen looks at him like he wants to be pissed, his jaw working, then he relents, eyes dropping to the floor. "I know. It's cool, man. Well, no, it's not cool, but we're cool."

They look at each other a long moment, then Jared looks away before he can start to remember again how Jensen tastes. "This industry is such bullshit, sometimes," he says, mulishly kicking at the couch.

"Hey," says Jensen. "Destroy your own trailer's furniture."

Jared kicks it again. "We only have one day left where it's ours anyway."

"Jay."

Jared looks at him.

"We knew what we signed on for. It's bullshit, but it's how it is."

Jared nods. "I know. I know, I just. Doesn't mean it isn't bullshit." His head aches and he's tired, inside and out. He wants today to be over, except how that's the last thing he wants, because it would mean everything else is truly over, too, and what is he supposed to do then?

He claps a hand on Jensen's shoulder then pulls him into a rough hug, because right now, this isn't about his emo, this is about Jensen dealing with asshole exes and the complicated mass of bullshit that surrounds everything to do with sexuality in the media industry.

"Fuck," complains Jensen, and struggles weakly, but Jared holds on, and eventually Jensen submits, squeezes Jared's shoulders hard then shoves him away. "Thanks."

>   
> Celeb gossip: BLIND ITEM – Skeletons in the, ahem, _Closet_  
>  Oh no! Rumor has it a past flame of this sexy network TV stud is threatening to come forward and spill deets. The problem? Said stud is happily married to a beautiful lay-dee, a real match made in teen network heaven – and the disgruntled past flame is decidedly male!  
> 

\--

The wrap party is a relief when they make it there; the atmosphere changes from the dragging irritation of the working day and instead finally feels like there is joy and celebration. Not without a nostalgic melancholy, of course; some of the crew who've been with them from the very beginning aren't dry-eyed for long, especially once the speeches start and the drinks flow.

Jensen keeps checking his phone for the first half hour. "Agent and some hotshot lawyer Danni's friend knows are working together to scare him down to a lower settlement. Nothing another con won't cover, it's cool," he'd said blithely, but he'd been both upset and angry under that, it was clear, at least to Jared. But an hour and a few glasses of champagne and he's seeming to shake it off, eyes loosening and his goodbyes and hugs ringing more genuine. It's still violently unfair that it had to happen today, the unpleasant aftertaste of someone's betrayal bleeding though what should be a celebratory send-off.

Jared heads towards the stage when it's his turn to give a speech. The room is full of the sound of the low music mixing with the hum of chatter. He's feeling pretty good, now, that anxious restlessness fading, but he knows it's waiting under the surface for when this is over, when he has to start making decisions about where he's going next, what to make of himself in this fucked-up industry.

He hears a clear snippet of conversation as he passes a lively discussion, the way one line of dialogue will leap out, often amusing away from context.

It's an indignant voice. "If you don't like your life, fucking change it, he tells me!"

Jared keeps walking, grinning, wondering that it was about. He reckons the mysterious 'he' has a point – he's never liked people that whine and whine about their lives without making an effort to just damn well _change_ it.

He's reminded instantly of what Jensen had said to him, back when things were falling apart with Gen. _If you aren't happy, change something._.

He falters for a moment on his way up the steps to the stage. A dumb spark of an idea sputters to life in the back of his mind. He shakes his head.

He steps onto the stage and waves around, walks to the center. He looks down at the gathered crowd, fucking around with the microphone with a grin to get it to his height, and feels a swell of affection for everyone there. He knows it's rare to get such a genuine and tight-knit community working on a set, and he feels sometimes as though they're so barely protected up here, a thin bubble against the endless bullshit of Hollywood, and its weight is pressing ever closer the nearer they inched to the end of this whole thing.

He raises his champagne glass and grins out at the crowd. "Hey, guys!" he says, and the rumble of chatter falls to a hush. "I'm not gonna keep you after Sera just talked your ears off—"

"Bullshit!" calls Jensen.

"—yeah, okay, maybe I will keep you, but suck it up. Look, I just wanna thank all y'all, for this amazing, incredible past seven years. Everyone here, everyone who's ever been involved, anyone who ends up watching me spew this crap on Youtube, everyone. But right now, particularly to those people who've been with all us the way since the beginning, the community we've built up. It's so precious to have something like that. I'm sure a whole lot of you know how rare it is, and you all have helped me grow and learn so much and I love everyone for it and yeah, I know I'm being a sap, shut up, Jensen, I'm doing it so you don't have to. So—thank you."

Applause, and whistles and a catcall he happily flips off from who he's pretty sure is Misha.

"I don't know what's next for me, let alone any of the rest of y'all, but I just wanna say I won't forget any of you or any of what I learned."

"You must have some idea of what you're doing next!" shouts someone from the back, who Jared thinks is a journalist from a media blog who's gotten in; but that tiny idea sparks again. He laughs.

"Sometimes I think I might just quit acting altogether and open up an animal shelter."

The room ripples with laughter, and Jared grins along, then bites his lip and leans in closer to the microphone like he's sharing a secret. "I'm actually not really sure I'm kidding about that, guys. I'll keep y'all posted."

The laughter falters a little, so Jared clears his throat and grins again. "Anyway," he says hurriedly. He raises his glass again. "To the Supernatural family!"

After Jensen's speech, which is as short and snarky as Jared had expected but with a heart to it that doesn't help with the over-full emotional tightness in his chest, Jensen walks up to him, brows pulling down.

"Hey," says Jared, as Jensen punches him in the arm harder than a welcoming tap. "What?"

"I don't know if you were kidding or what, but why didn't you tell me you had some crazy idea about quitting and opening a fucking—animal place?" His indignation looks almost comical, but Jared doesn't let himself smile because Jensen _does_ look kinda pissed.

Jared spreads his hands in surrender. "Honestly, I didn't even know I was going to say it until I did."

Jensen drops his hands from his hips. "So you were kidding," he says.

"Uh," says Jared. "Honestly? I really don't think I was." He hasn't let himself touch the idea too much yet, just letting it sit carefully at the back of his mind, wanting it to become stronger before he can poke any cracks in it, but something about it makes him happy, just having it exist at all. God, the thought of leaving this whole world, something he'd never actually thought about even when he was at his lowest, but actually doing it, changing everything, resetting the course of his life—it sparks this low, fizzing unexpected joy in him that feels so new, and he doesn't want to lose it.

Jensen tightens his jaw, a muscle flickering there. "You can't just up and leave acting and start being some sort of activist, Jared. This is your whole life, you can't just—" Jensen makes a slicing motion into his palm. "Just stop your career like that, not right now. You could do anything right now."

Jared frowns, jutting his jaw forward, knowing he must look childish but not really caring. "Who says I want to? Maybe this is what I've always been supposed to do." He shrugs. "If Brigitte Bardot can do it, why can't I?"

Jensen doesn't look convinced. "Brigitte Bar—" He shakes his head. "Sometimes I worry about you. Fine, do what you want."

\--

>   
> The End of an Era!  
> SUPERNATURAL fans will know that this season is the last ever of this cult favorite TV show. We here at People are certainly going to miss its hunky stars! It's reported that lead JARED PADALECKI (left) had some interesting things to say at his emotional speech at the wrap party held earlier this week at their Vancouver set, implying he might not do any more acting, instead focusing on other interests and passions. Say it ain't so, Jared! Whatever he ends up doing, he'll have the support of his fans and hunky costars JENSEN ACKLES (center) and MISHA COLLINS (right). And us, of course!  
> 

\--

Jared doesn't see Jensen at the party again for a good couple of hours, and he doesn't really care, frankly pissed off and a little bit hurt that Jensen dismissed his idea so offhand, like he doesn't think Jared could do it, or should—like what Jared wants isn't important, like Jared's some fucking idiot for putting anything above his precious career.

He drinks a little more than he should, and after a heavy conversation with Misha that he barely even follows, he takes a few minutes to get some air in the parking lot. He wanders down to where his trailer is parked, dark and locked, the inside bare of all the stuff that had made it his. He leans back against it, the cool air a soft relief on his alcohol-flushed face, then he startles when he hears unsteady footsteps coming down the lot behind his trailer.

He leans his head out and is only slightly surprised to see Jensen, who must have followed him out of the party.

It's quickly obvious that whatever excess Jared has drank to, Jensen has outstripped him spectacularly; he heads straight for Jared, his path a little unsteady but determined, and his eyes are bright and angry in the dimly lit lot.

"Hey," says Jared, unsure, as Jensen walks right up to him. Jensen reaches a hand out and shoves Jared in the middle of his chest. Jared stumbles back, shoulders thudding into the trailer wall, mouth open to protest, but Jensen keeps going, shouldering his way right up into Jared's space. Jared registers the warmth of Jensen's breath on his face just before Jensen pushes right on in and kisses him.

Jared jerks, elbows knocking with a clang against the trailer; Jensen's mouth is insistent and wet on his.

It doesn't seem like it's been five years, then; the taste of Jensen is sharply familiar, laced with alcohol, and Jared's mind blanks out in the hot rush of it. His hands come up to cradle Jensen's head, soften the kiss long enough for Jared to curl his fingers into Jensen's short hair and tug, angle his head to the side so he can slide his mouth open, easy and filthy-wide against Jensen's.

Jensen gives back harshly, teeth a solid press against Jared's mouth as Jensen presses in hard, tongue slippery and firm as he rubs it against Jared's; and that's different, like the bite of the night air on the back of his neck and cooling the spit Jensen's left on his chin, the side of his mouth.

Reality pushes its way back in, cold threads of it slipping around the sheer hot pleasure of kissing Jensen. Jared manages to push Jensen away, hands sliding out of his hair and shoving at his shoulders, one arm coming up to press the back of his hand against his mouth as if he can keep the feel of Jensen inside him.

Jensen is panting hard, and he still looks pissed.

Jared swallows, rubs his hand over his mouth, the wetness of their kiss smearing over his palm.

"What the _fuck_?"

Jensen is dangerously drunk. Not enough to be passed out, not enough to be stumbling and incoherent, but gone enough that shit like his marriage vows and the years of their friendship don't seem to be mattering all that much in the face of whatever idea he has lodged in his brain.

Jensen licks over his lips; they're wet in the dim light, and Jared can still feel the soft wet slide of them against his own, and he's abruptly angry as hell.

"What is this, huh? Is this because you're missing _Blake_ —"

"Fuck you, _no_ ," spits out Jensen. "This is all on you. Jared—" He takes another step in, and Jared shoves a hand at his shoulder, keeps him at bay.

"Seriously, what the fuck—your wife is right there!" He points angrily back in the direction of the party. "Don't you respect her? Yourself? Christ, Jensen, you can't just do that—kiss me and expect that to be okay, not now."

Jensen latches on to the least important part of that. "Not _now_?" he says, stepping forward against Jared's now unresisting hand, and Jared can't read the tone of his voice.

Jared clenches his jaw. "Yeah, not now. You could've—"

He stops himself, then, because that's not fair. Jared could've pushed it, back then. Back in that window when they could've maybe had something. Instead he'd let Jensen pretend like nothing had happened, taken Jensen's cues, but he'd known, if he was honest with himself, that Jensen would have let him push. If he'd been brave enough to.

"Could've what," says Jensen, eyes flashing dangerously, taking another step forward.

Maybe it isn't fair, but Jared snaps anyway. "You made it pretty clear you weren't that interested. You acted like nothing ever happened. I followed your lead."

Jensen doesn't say anything to that, just looks at him, too close for Jared's comfort. The weight of things unsaid between them is terrifying in this moment, that night they'd never discussed before now—at least Jared knows for sure Jensen remembers, from the look on his face. From that repeat of the kiss.

Jared breaks the moment, looking fretfully away, up and down the parking lot. "It's in the past," he says firmly, because saying anything else right now would be pointless and risky. Jensen is married, and they'd both do well to remember that. "And I don't know what your problem is, but I—yeah, maybe I'm leaving acting, I don't know for sure, but I'm not leaving you, you know? You're—"

He struggles to think of a safe, platonic way to say _under my goddamn skin forever_ , but just shrugs instead. "Always gonna be a part of my life," he goes for eventually.

Jensen seems smaller now, and he's looking at the floor. "Sh-shit," he says, slurring lightly. "Sorry."

"It's—it's okay," said Jared. "You always were a clingy drunk. This didn't happen," he says, even though it kinda hurts to push it away again, but it's not like there's really another choice. "So stop being a drunken possessive idiot and go back to your wife."

Jensen rubs a hand through his hair. "If she wants me," he mumbles, and leans against Jared suddenly like his strings have been cut. "I think I'm fucking this up."

Jared frowns, keeps Jensen steady with firm hands on his shoulders. "What? I thought you guys were good."

Jensen shakes his head, pushes himself away, eyes looking more focused, and clears his throat.

"No, no, we are, I just. We sometimes—you know what she's like."

Jared raises an eyebrow. "Not exactly, but I do know what you're like."

Jensen half smiles. "Yeah, fair enough. I—don't worry about. Aw, fuck," he says, putting a hand to his head and stumbling a little towards Jared again. "So fuckin' drunk, swear, what do they put in this shit."

Jared's confused and still pretty pissed at Jensen, but it hurts to see him fucked up and miserable like this. "I meant what I said. I'm not leaving you. No excuse for this drunken, indulgent, melancholy shit." _And ill-advised kisses_ , he doesn't say.

Jensen looks up at him again. "You better not," he slurs, and sways in again, and Jared thinks maybe he's going to kiss him again. It would be a monumentally bad idea, but his mouth aches for it anyway.

Instead, Jensen weaves back to the party, and Jared ends up helping Danneel get their coats and Jensen into the car, pushing down guilt as he does.

\--

Even as close as Jared and Jensen were, it took them a year or two to start to learn each other—in a whole sort of way, the bad parts as well as the good. It took Jensen more than one argument to realize Jared's bad moods blew over quickly and whatever he yelled, however loud, he wouldn't mean half an hour later. It took Jared a while to realize Jensen could be pissed at someone for months and they wouldn't know because he hid it so well.

When Jared was hurt, he showed it, probably way too easily. When Jensen was hurt, he closed off, sometimes too well.

When Jensen got with Blake, he thought for a short time it was going to be something maybe-serious—until Blake had wandered on to apparently greener pastures. It was Jensen's motivation to come out to Jared, and he'd floated the idea of taking Blake to meet his family. They knew, but Jensen said they'd always been kind of weird about it, so he'd talked to his brother first.

His brother had told him, flat-out, not to—that the family wasn't where Jensen should take his _alternative_ lifestyle. Josh said it was selfish and unfair to make them suffer through the shame.

Jared would've cried, most likely; maybe he would've yelled if he'd gotten over being hurt soon enough to get pissed. Jensen just shrugged and said, "Sure." Jared went over to his place for what was ostensibly a cookout, but really Jared wanted to be moral support. He was on fire, ready to rant about homophobic relatives and how unfair Josh was being, but Jensen had just waved it off.

"It's just his opinion," he said. "He's probably right."

When Jared later heard Jensen making his regular family calls the next week, it finally clicked—Jensen had totally closed himself off from Josh. Walled off the hurt and anger. He was perfectly polite, and totally disconnected from the conversation. Listening in gave Jared that weird Uncanny Valley shiver: it was Jensen, but it totally wasn't. If Josh could tell—and douchebag or not, he was Jensen's brother, he probably could—then it had to hurt more than any shouting and cursing would.

It had been nearly a year later that they'd finally fixed things completely. Josh had done some soul-searching or his wife had chewed him out or he'd met an openly gay colleague and realized that they were actually human, who knows what had changed his mind, but he'd grovelled to Jensen pretty spectacularly. The next time Josh brought his family up to Vancouver to visit, Jared could see the difference when he joined them for dinner—it was all _Jensen_ again, talking and laughing with Josh, and the relief was naked on Josh's face.

Jared had thought at the time, _man. It must hurt to have Jensen hide himself away from you._

\--

>   
> Industrial Property for Lease
> 
> 8400 Jefferson Row, Dallas, TX 74267  
> * Total Space Available: _20,000 SF_
> 
> * Rental Rate: _$2.75 /SF/Year_
> 
> * Property Type: _Industrial_  
>  * Property Sub-type: _Warehouse/Office space_
> 
> * Year Built: _1964_  
>  * Lot Size: _1.04 AC_  
>  * Features:  
>  _-Electricity/Power  
>  -Covered outbuildings_
> 
> FOR MORE INFORMATION, contact Structural Commercial Real Estate  
> 214-237-7022 Main / 214-237-7021 Fax  
> info@s-commercial-tx.com  
> 

\--

"Angie, no, I know, I'm taking the exit right now. I will. I promise. What's her name again? Susanna, right."

Jared winces as he cuts off an SUV and raises a hand in apology, phone held between his cheek and shoulder. His phone beeps with another incoming call which he doesn't have enough hands to answer, and he has a bulging briefcase of papers sliding around in the passenger seat. Who knew setting up an animal charity and shelter was so much work and damn red tape?

He pulls into the lot only ten minutes later than the appointment. His commercial real estate agent in L.A set up a meeting with a contact in her Texas branch, Susanna, and that must be her waiting outside.

"Hi!" he says as he tries not to trip over his own feet hurrying out of the car, grabbing his briefcase as he goes. "I'm Jared. So sorry I'm late, the traffic from the airport was a nightmare."

She shakes his hand warmly. "No problem, Mr. Padalecki," she says. "Shall we?"

The location is pretty good: just outside Dallas and well-served by roads including bus routes, but the premises itself is what sells it to Jared. There's two acres of fenced green space in the back, and the building itself is large, spacious and bright. The reception has floor-to-ceiling windows, the space that would be the vet's room is clean and pleasant, and the outbuildings are secure and sprawling enough to hold a significant range of pens and equipment for keeping the animals to be re-homed. Big enough to actually be useful, small enough he can deal with it on his current business plan.

Jared presses down that familiar overwhelming feeling of _holy shit, there's still so much to do_ and gets Angie on video on his iPhone and gives her the tour, lets her and Susanna speak in real estate agent language, then says firmly, "I want it."

Angie raises her eyebrows, pixellated surprise. "We still have four more premises for you to look at in L.A and we haven't finalized the Texas state licensing issues yet—"

"I know," says Jared, "but this is it. I can tell." He hadn't been able to decide yet between Texas and L.A, and seeing this place, the feel of it perfect, makes the decision for him, and having that made feels giddily exciting. "I want it. Start the paperwork, tell me what I need to do to secure it. I'm in, I'm in!" He gives a little whoop and Susanna grins at him.

"You heard the man, Angie," she says, probably a little smug the deal will be taken over by her branch of the firm, but Jared'll make sure Angie is taken care of. "Let's get the ball rolling."

\--

Jensen was his missed call from in the car, so he calls him back once he's checked into the hotel.

"Change of career, but same old shit, man," he complains as he drops his bags in the room. "Yet another hotel room, except this time it's not even paid for."

Jensen hmms amusement at him. "How's it all going?" he says, voice still tinged with that slight disbelief he always has when he talks about Jared's shelter.

"Awesome, actually. I found it!"

"The premises? Already? In Texas?" Jensen seems dubious.

"Yeah, it's just exactly what I was looking for. It felt right, you know? Paperwork is getting started already. So I guess I'll be moving to Texas before long."

"That's really awesome, man. I'm glad."

Jensen sounds off, though, like Jared's been noticing more and more recently. Polite enough, but—something makes Jared rub uncomfortably at the back of his neck, and he wishes Jensen would really connect to the conversation, because he never sounds like he totally is.

"Thanks, man. I know it's not LA," he says, knowing that probably isn't helping Jensen's feeling that Jared's moving away from him, "but it's the perfect place."

Things have been a little off between them ever since the wrap party a few months ago, to be honest, and Jared's not dumb enough to pretend the kiss has nothing to do with it, but they got through it before. He's determined they will again. He's just not going to let the physical distance between them push them any further apart. Jensen knows more details about the shelter plans than Jared's lawyer, mostly because Jared insists on calling him up regularly with updates, just to keep in touch, and for all Jensen still isn't the most enthused about it, he never tells Jared he doesn't want to hear.

Jared's not letting Jensen give them up.

"Dude," he says, forcing lightness, "I'm doing you a favor, giving you a reason to come visit Texas more often. I know you miss it, and I know you won't be able to stay away from me, so it's win-win, really."

"Think a lot of yourself, don't you?" says Jensen, but it's warmer now, and so familiar Jared could cry.

"Nah, that's you, remember?" he says, and Jensen laughs.

"So what's new with you?" Jared asks, and Jensen gets into a story about the internal politics of his recent voice role in a Pixar film and how he can't believe how some people can create drama even when the set doesn't extend beyond a sound studio.

Jared grins and both misses it and doesn't. Being creative, acting, working with people to make something come together and be awesome, he always loved that; but it's everything else, the bullshit Jensen's talking about, that make him glad he's out with no plans to go back.

Jensen's always been better at that than Jared. He worked hard, did an amazing job, and let everyone else quarrel about it above his head and didn't let it bother him. Jared's never been one to get involved in the drama but it bothered him when it happened around him, when there were egos running unchecked and that particular brand of industry unfairness.

"Guess you don't miss any of that bullshit," Jensen says wryly, reading Jared's damn mind like always.

"God, no," says Jared. "Give me realtors and lawyers any day, and that's saying something."

"Not any of it?"

"I guess—well, not really. I miss acting. I'm always going to love it, but I'm happier away from it all for now, doing something that means something to me, you know?"

Jensen's quiet, and it doesn't occur to Jared until long after they've said their goodbyes, the awkwardness barely noticeable but massive considering how they used to be, that maybe Jensen wanted Jared to say he missed Jensen.

\--

Jared doesn't see Jensen for another couple of months as plans for the premises get worked out and the charity gets off the ground. They get a coffee together when Jared's next in LA listing his house, but Danneel's there and much as Jared gets along with her, he'd kind of thought it would just be him and Jensen. From the tenseness in Jensen's mouth when he says that Danni had come back a day earlier from her location shoot, he thinks Jensen hadn't exactly planned on her being there either. Their conversation is stilted and the tension between Jensen and Danneel makes Jared feel anxious, but when he probes Jensen about it later, he clams up. Jared feels like he's lost the words he used to have to get Jensen to open up about anything.

He ends up seeing more of Misha than Jensen for a while, because Misha, far more than Jared or Jensen, knows about mobilizing a fanbase. Despite the fact Jared's leaving the industry, it would be pretty stupid to cut ties entirely with all those people. Charities run on word of mouth and donations, and the Supernatural fans, slightly scary as they can be, have always had full hearts and open pockets, even now that the show's ended. Jared's funding a bunch of the start-up himself, but that can't be the case indefinitely, so he needs to start getting used to doing charity drives fast.

"I've never really _gotten_ Twitter," admits Jared.

Misha rolls his eyes. "Follow my lead, young padawan, in the ways of celeb charity drives."

Jared does, and ends up tying his charity in with Misha's Random Acts charity, at least as they start up, because the framework and contacts are there.

>   
>  **Jared Padalecki** is on **Twitter**
> 
> Jarpad: Visit http://bit.ly/l1C0bI for the Padalecki Animal Trust and info on our donation drive & prize draw!  
> Jarpad: and sign up for our newsletter, exciting stuff coming :-)
> 
>  
> 
> Rocksaltgirl: OMG GO DONATE TO JARED'S CHARITY <33 RT@Jarpad: Visit http://bit.ly/l1C0bI...  
> Misspadalove: @rocksaltgirl Omg Jared is SO AWESOME he inspires me ;-;
> 
> mishacollins: My ex co star @Jarpad is under the delusion he is Noah of the Ark. Donate to his psych bill @ http://bit.ly/l1C0bI  
> mishacollins: (he's actually doing amazing work, I don't want my wit to actually get in the way of that. Donate, minions, for the sake of the puppies.)
> 
> Cthegreatest: omg @mishacollins did you help him set up a twitter haha
> 
> XiGloriaiX: @Jarpad where do I take this stray cat I found?? Help!!!! I love you!!
> 
> clarecurls: I donated to @Jarpad's charity for my birthday :-D
> 
> Jarpad: Thank you all SO MUCH!!!  
> 

\--

The profile of the charity rises quickly through Twitter and forums, and Jared ends up having to do a couple of interviews in magazines and celebrity news spots on E! to get the information out there, even though he doesn't really like using his celebrity status, such as it is. He wants this to succeed on its own merits.

"It will," Misha tells him over coffee, "but it'd be stupid to ignore the potential of what resources you have to help, especially when it's a charity and people want to support you. You don't need to feel guilty about it. It's like, imagine you're trying to get somewhere important. You don't ignore the brand new Harley Davidson sitting in your driveway and instead pedal your tricycle all the way, right? It's just getting you going."

"Thanks, I think," says Jared. "You realize I should be paying you for this advice and help?"

Misha grins. "I take payment in the form of online game _asskicking_."

"Good to know," says Jared, immensely grateful. Then, because he can't help himself, "Have you spoken to Jensen recently?"

Misha raises his eyebrows. "Not really. I'm surprised you're asking me – aren't you two joined at the hip? Or at the iPhone?"

"Not so much," admits Jared awkwardly. "It's weird between us. We had, uh. A fight at the wrap party, but that was so long ago, I don't know what it really is. I keep calling him, because I'm not letting us drift apart like I have with all my costars before, but it's still weird when we talk. I don't really know what to do."

Misha shrugs. "Don't worry about it."

"Thanks for your deep concern about my serious fear of losing one of my best friends," Jared tells him, deadpan.

"Any time," says Misha right back, then shakes his head. "I mean it, seriously! Do not worry about you and Jensen. What you guys have, that's the life-long connection, you know? Maybe he's too caught up in his slowly imploding marriage—yeah, that's pretty much an open secret—or maybe he's pissed at you for leaving him. Maybe any number of things are going on with him, but it won't ruin you. Just hang on and keep bugging him, he'll come around."

Jared stretches, cracks his neck and sighs, thinks about what Misha's saying. There's a core of shamed hope in him when he thinks about Jensen and Danneel breaking up, a fluttery something in his chest that blows over the constant reminders he keeps putting up that how he feels for Jensen isn't important – that they should be friends.

"I hope you're right. It's just—everything I'm doing right now, the shelter, the charity, everything's going faster and getting closer and it's _exciting_ and I just wish I could share it with him. But I feel like I'm pissing him off or, or something, I dunno. I want us to be like before." He knows he sounds childish, but he doesn't care too much.

Misha nods again. "You will. You have something that can get stretched and tested but it'll bounce back. Like me and Vicki. I thought that from pretty early on in knowing you guys."

Jared grins. "Not sure the comparison is _entirely_ apt, considering you guys are married, but I appreciate it."

Misha raises that eyebrow again. "Isn't it?"

\--

"I swear, I'm doing more networking setting up this damn charity than I ever did in Hollywood. It's nuts, man." Jared feels somewhat manic, like the more monosyllabic Jensen gets the more enthusiastic Jared counters with, not knowing what else to do.

Jensen grunts.

"And I spoke to Paul again, you know, the guy I mentioned, who runs the Humane Society south-east of Dallas—"

"Yeah, you mentioned him a couple times."

"—he promised to help me join the Dallas ring of animal centers, and that he and some of the others have surplus animals in their rehoming waiting lists that they can transfer to mine when it's up and running, because I'm going to have a lot of room, but he said we won't need to take on surplus for long, we'll have enough animals coming in to the shelter direct—"

Jensen interrupts. "Look, this is awesome, but I gotta—I'm sorry, I'm really busy. Can I catch up later?"

Jared gapes at the phone for a moment. "I—what? I mean, I guess, I just—I'm sorry if I'm boring you with this stuff, but I want to let you know what's going on in my life."

Jared can hear Jensen blow out a breath. "Yeah. Look, I—I'm sorry, I'm a dick, I know. I'm just going through some shit, and I—sometimes I don't want another chapter of how great your life is going up there away from—"

"What shit? Jensen, please don't cut me out."

"I just. I can't, alright? Have fun with Paul."

\--

>   
> Jared P [jpadtexas@gmail.com] to Gen Cortese [cortese990@gmail.com]  
> show details Aug 18th (1 day ago)
> 
> Hey, Gen. How've you been? It was good to see you at Megan's thing.
> 
> So, I wanted to ask if you've talked to Danneel or even Jensen recently. He's been shutting me out a lot and he says he's going through some shit and he won't tell me what. I'm worried about him and worried that I did something to piss him off, because this is pretty much how he acts when someone screws him over. Which is fine, but I'd like to know if I have and how to fix it? Anyway. I've been really out of the loop, what with the shelter, so I wondered if you'd spoken to anyone.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Jared
> 
> * * *
> 
> Gen Cortese [cortese990@gmail.com] to Jared P [jpadtexas@gmail.com]  
> show details Aug 18th (1 day ago)
> 
> Hi Jared,
> 
> I should probably be pissed at you for trying to pump me for gossip about your best friend when you should just man up and ask him!!! I've never really been able to stay mad at you though, so take this is your last warning—no more!
> 
> Honestly, I haven't spoken to Danneel or Jensen myself, but from what I hear—it's not really my place to say, but I trust you to keep me out of this. I don't think Jensen and Danneel are doing too well, marriage-wise. I don't know the details. I don't know why he'd shut you out, maybe you're sort of part of it, in his mind? If you didn't do anything wrong, maybe he just wants to protect himself by avoiding you, maybe it hurts too much to be around you a lot.. I think you know what I'm getting at, Jared and I'm going to stop now before it becomes a *really* weird conversation to be having with your ex-wife.
> 
> Take care,
> 
> Gen  
> 

\--

Jared's renting an apartment in a Dallas suburb that's closer to his shelter than getting a place downtown in Dallas would've been. He's hardly had the time to unpack, and Sadie's still with a dogsitter in LA until he gets settled enough to bring her with him. It pretty much feels like a hotel room, so at least he's used to it, but it's bland and a little cold. He lies on top of his wide, comfortable bed, stares through the gloom at the plain white walls and plain white ceiling and can't sleep.

He's startled when his phone rings, a shuddering buzz against the table, but he isn't surprised when he picks it up and sees it's Jensen.

It's past two AM. Jared answers anyway. "Hey," he says carefully.

There's just the sound of Jensen breathing for a moment, and even before he speaks, Jared knows he's drunk, in the labored, determined force behind his breaths.

Jensen doesn't say hello.

"You know," he starts off, voice soft around the edges with drunkenness but clear and confident. "You know I wanna fuck you, right, Jared?"

Jared sits up properly in bed, mouth dumbly open and eyes wide, staring at nothing incredulously in the dark.

"What?" The kiss—and what Gen had said in her email—had been in his mind, circling restlessly; hearing Jensen say it like this has his whole body thrumming into shocked awareness, and a thick undercurrent of desire like his body has never forgotten how to want Jensen. "Jensen—"

Jensen cuts over him.

"Bet you do, the way you parade it around all the time, let everyone touch it, you gotta know—"

"What the fuck are you doing," says Jared, hands fisted around the phone and in the covers, fingernails aching with the grip. His heartbeat had kickstarted with the shock of the phone in the silent room, and now it's galloping away, roaring in his ears.

"Jared. You don't even—god, everything is so fucked up without you. And you're living your life over there away from me, while I'm just messing things up—remembering shit I shouldn't remember, and, Jared," Jensen goes on, slurred edges of the words running into each other like he knows he can't stop now that he's opened the gates, letting it all flood out in some destructive torrent of shit he shouldn't say. Jared strains for every word. "Sometimes I don't want to be your friend, Jared, sometimes I wanna _fuck_ you. Every night, my wife's lying next to me and I'm thinking about you, how's that for fucked up. Ever since you pulled that stunt at the party—"

"That wasn't _me_ ", says Jared harshly.

"Yeah, I know. You were the one talking about leaving. It messed me up, man, and I—I thought I could deal with it, had been for so fucking long, and now every night—" He draws in a harsh breath.

Jared should hang up, he should hang up right now and wait 'til Jensen's sobered up, let them both think about this in the daylight. A dark, addicted part of him wants to hear this, wants to know about Jensen all twisted up in need for him even though it's everything he tried to force out of himself to save their friendship. Maybe he didn't force it away deep enough.

"Danni—" he tries, closing his eyes.

"Away. Been away almost a month, stayin' at Elisabeth's. I haven't even called her. It's getting so fucked up. So I figured, she's gone, you're gone, I might as well get wasted and drag you into the mess. Three guesses why I haven't been calling so much recently, and two don't count. Because I'm a fucking coward."

"You're not," says Jared, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah, I am. But I'm also drunk. Jared—"

Jensen makes a strained sound and Jared's body flushes all over with how it sounds. He imagines Jensen the way he's pictured but never seen, naked and wanting, maybe one hand pressing the phone to his ear, the other shoved into his boxers, fist wrapped tight and desperate around his dick.

"Tell me," he says, and stops, knowing he's breathing faster into the phone. This is such a stupid idea.

"Jay, god," Jensen pants. "You remember it, that night, when we were living in that house—think about that. What if I'd done it? Would've dragged you up off the couch, bent you over the back of it, not gonna get all the way upstairs when I have you, fucking finally. Shove you—unh—right over it, spread your legs so your jeans are pulled over your ass, just fucking rub my hands all over it, hear you whine for it cause I know you want it."

Jared doesn't even know; he's not experienced with guys, has mostly only ever thought about Jensen that way. He's never thought about that before, not really. But he can almost feel it, the back of the couch under his chest, Jensen's hands on his ass, squeezing and rubbing right down into his crack, and he's been experimental enough on himself he knows—god—knows Jensen's right. He wants it.

His pulse is throbbing in the swell of his cock and his ass feels sensitized, his asshole clenching around nothing. He gasps, lies back in bed and arches himself wantonly against the sheets, rubs his ass on them, heavy cock shifting in his boxers.

Jensen moans, an intimate, shocking noise right in Jared's ear. "You do, don't you? Fuck, Jared, you're thinking about me and gettin' hard. I know you are, your fucking dick getting hard for me, tell me, come on."

"Ah, god," Jared gets out, face hot from a mix of embarrassment and sheer arousal, feeding into each other fiercely. "Yeah, alright, god. Yeah."

"Fucking knew it. Jerk yourself off," Jensen demands.

Jared rubs his hand fretfully up and down his thigh a few times before he gives in, skates the palm over the sticky wet head of his dick sticking up through the slit in his boxers; he jolts at the flash of sensation and grabs it, moans.

"Tell—tell me," he says, choked. "How you'd fuck me."

" _Hard_ ," says Jensen instantly, voice tight. Jared grunts out a breath like he's been hit, fingers squeezing convulsively tight on his dick; it throbs fat and hot in his grip. He twists his head, pressing his hot cheek against the cool pillowcase. "Make you fucking shout for me. Make you feel it—ah—feel every step next day. Remind you it's fuckin mine—"

God, Jared can hear him, wet obscene slaps as Jensen jerks himself off, fingers wrapped around his dick like Jared's are. The red swollen head of his cock must be popping through his fingers like Jared's is. Jared wants to see, wants to know exactly how Jensen's dick looks in his own fist, in Jared's. How the blood-hot heft of another man's dick feels against his own broad palm, how it's the same, how it's different.

This'll probably feel sordid later, Jared alone in bed, phone pressed tightly to his ear, other hand working furiously at his dick as Jensen moans in his ear over a thousand miles away doing the same, the two of them fucked-up in this mess. Right now, it feels thrilling in the secretive darkness of it all, the fact they've never done this before and they shouldn't do this and Jensen is _married_.

"Wanna—wanna fuck you, god, wanna taste you, Christ—Jared, you fuck me up—"

Jared feels heady and crazy with Jensen's words, the sex-rich strain to his voice. Knowing that he's messing Jensen up makes him feel powerful and it also opens the door he closed on how Jensen made him feel: that physical obsession and sexual infatuation he knew gripped him way too tight after that first kiss, the feeling he'd stomped on, damped down to embers. It feels like it's gonna ruin him as it roars back through now, fiercer than ever. Jensen's pink mouth, kissed wet, open and gasping; Jensen's firm thighs, solid and naked and firm braced either side of Jared's; Jensen's broad back, arched in pleasure; Jensen's voice—oh, god, dark and raspy in his ear.

"Jensen, oh, shit, I'm—Jensen, please," he says, not even knowing what he's asking for.

He hears it when Jensen comes, every hitch of his breath and ragged groan and wet sound of his mouth opening, even the wetter slick-slick of Jensen's hand pumping through the spurts of come over his fingers.

Jared drops the phone, can't concentrate enough to keep it there, braces his free hand on the headboard as his body locks in a tense arch, other hand nearly a blur on his dick as he comes. It explodes in hot sparks through him, heat clenching in his thighs and belly and pulsing up through his dick, wet streaks of come leaping up through his fingers to splatter on his belly, mess getting on his boxers, t-shirt, sheets.

He lies there in swaying hot darkness, eyes closed, before the aftershocks fade and the giddy orgasm relief retreats, and he feels the cool, tacky, drying come on his skin, the awkward plastic press of the phone into his neck.

He fumbles for it, something uncomfortable gathering in his stomach.

"Jensen?"

He can still hear Jensen breathing, slower now. Jared expects him to hang up, but he says, the slurring worse now, like he's halfway to passing out, "Shit, sorry. Fuck, man, I'm so sorry. Keep messing this up. I never said, but I'm glad you're happy. Out there, with what you're doing. Never said it. Just being a fuck up."

"Jensen, no, you're—"

This time, there's only the beep of Jensen ending the call.

In the shower, Jared smacks the side of his hand against the wall, a ringing slap that echoes around and makes his palm sting. "Fuck this," he says, and when he gets out, he calls Jensen back.

He's not surprised when it goes directly to voicemail, but he leaves a message anyway. "Jensen, hey. Call me in the morning if you're feeling okay. We need to talk about this because I—I'm just gonna put this out there. You're not a fuck-up, and I _miss_ you and we need to figure this out. Okay? Okay man, call me."

He bites his lip, because Jensen is frustratingly like Dean when it comes to his own emotions and problems—locks it up and deflects with jokes or stubborn avoidance. He has great advice, helped Jared through his broken engagement and marriage and subsequent divorce knowing exactly what to say when, but never volunteered many of his own problems and worries.

Jared used to be pretty damn good at teasing it out, but he'd suspected Jensen had always had an underlying desire to let Jared make him talk about it. This—if Jensen doesn't want to talk about it, he won't, but Jared's still not giving up this tangled mess without a fight.

For all it's a mess, it's still them, and Jared knows they can salvage this. Either back into their friendship, or into—he doesn't want to put a label on what it could be, but there's a stubborn spark of hope that he hasn't let himself feel before that maybe they could have something.

He expects not to hear from Jensen the next day, even the next few. He calls again, texts him a few times, and struggles concentrating on all the other things he should be doing, memories of the sound Jensen made when he came flashing through him at inopportune times.

>   
> TO: Jensen  
> Don't be a coward. Call me, man.  
> STATUS: Sent
> 
> TO: Jensen  
> Have to send a permit application to a Mr. Dickover. Best name ever :-)  
> STATUS: Sent
> 
> TO: Jensen  
> Too soon for jokes? come on, I'm not gonna let you cut me loose this easy. Call me.  
> STATUS: Sent
> 
>  
> 
> TO: Jared  
> I can't do this. I'm not brave enough.  
> STATUS: **Draft**
> 
>  _Are you sure you want to delete this message?_  
> 

 

What he doesn't expect is a chipper phone call from Jensen exactly one week after the event, no reference to what happened or the messages Jared's been leaving.

 

>   
> Thank you for booking with Continental Airlines!  
> Flight Details  
> Flight CO 6074  
> Mon. 29 Aug. 2012 | Los Angeles, CA (LAX) to Paris, France (CDG)
> 
> Depart: 11:00 Mon. 29 Aug. 2012  
> Los Angeles, CA (LAX)
> 
> Arrive: 09:25 +1 Day Tue. 30 Aug. 2012  
> Paris, France (CDG)
> 
> Flight Time: 13 hr 25 mn
> 
> Passenger names: MR JENSEN ACKLES  
> MRS DANNEEL ACKLES  
> 

"—so I won't be in LA, though you can still text me or whatever."

Jared blinks, uncomprehendingly, at the row of animal pens in a wholesale store he's supposed to be deciding on ordering for his shelter. "Paris?" he says.

"Yeah, man, it's going to be awesome. We just need a break, you know? Get things back on track. Haven't seen Danni so happy since we got Oscar." There's a smile in Jensen's voice, but—

"Jensen, I, uh. What about last weekend?" Jared didn't mean to be quite so blunt about it, but—what the fuck.

Jensen pauses, just a moment too long. "Oh, I—sorry, man, for the drunk dial. I had a few too many, don't really remember what I said." There's a tightness to his voice, something brittle and held-together.

Jared wants to press, shove and force and break, but he just says, "Okay, man. Have a great time."

"Thanks. I'll send you a postcard," says Jensen, clearly relieved. Jared ends the call, and looks around the warehouse and wonders, just for a second, what the fuck it goddamn matters what style of animal pens he gets for this damn stupid idea in the first place.

 

>   
> Jared P [jpadtexas@gmail.com] to Jensen Ackles [j.r.ackles@gmail.com]  
> show details Aug 29th (5 days ago)
> 
> Yeah, alright, now I'm pissed at you. That was a dick move man. Yes I do think you're being a coward THIS TIME.
> 
> If you're trying to push me away for your own protection or my own good or some bullshit like that, though, it's not gonna work. I'm still gonna be here. Sorry if that messes up your plans. I'm right here if you need help getting your shit together or here for you to apologize to when you do. Either way I'm right here. If you really meant it, that you're happy for me, come visit the shelter. It's awesome if I do say so myself. 8400 Jefferson Row, Dallas, TX 74267!!!
> 
> Jared  
> 

 

\--

>   
> Animal Sheltering Magazine – the USA's biggest bi-monthly publication for Animal Welfare and Animal Shelters  
> Publication 00947  
> September 2012
> 
> Page 5  
>  **Jared Padalecki: from TV star to full-time animal lover, for real!**  
>  Too often we see celebrities in this world pick up animal rights as a 'looks-good' cause, then drop it and move on to the next thing.
> 
> Not so in the case of JARED PADALECKI. You may recognize him from his lead role as Sam Winchester, one half of the demon-hunting brother duo on the cult hit TV show Supernatural, which ran for seven seasons on the CW network. If not, maybe you remember him from his fresh-faced younger days as Rory Gilmore's dimpled love interest in Gilmore Girls.
> 
> These days, he's no longer acting. He left Hollywood for good, he says, in order to follow his love of animals to open and run an animal shelter based in the outskirts of Dallas, Texas. And he's now finally talking in depth about it—and not to an entertainment magazine, but to the world he's becoming a part of, in Animal Sheltering. Thanks, Jared!
> 
> JARED:  
> No problem. I'm really excited to be here.
> 
> ANIMAL SHELTERING:  
> Why us, and not a publication where you might get a bigger readership?
> 
> J:  
> Because this isn't about readership or being a celebrity or anything. This is my community now and I need to become a part of it, because you all have so much passion and energy and love and, more importantly, knowledge about what you're doing that is so valuable to me. I'm green compared to so many other people out there who do this!
> 
> AS:  
> What everyone wants to know is, why? Surely if you love animals, you could just donate to charities, adopt some pets. This is a big change.
> 
> J:  
> That's a good question, and one I'm still thinking about even now. I realized that I was getting burned out after my TV show ended—I'd lost my inspiration and love for what I was doing. And I thought to myself, if you're unhappy with your life, then change it. Simple as that. I've always loved animals, I've always admired people who dedicate their lives to helping them. I was a big supporter of A Dog's Life Rescue in LA—they do great work and always need support, by the way!—but I'd never thought of actually doing anything more until I realized I needed a change. And once the idea came to me, it just felt absolutely right. Maybe it's a selfish reason, but I'm doing it because I want to make a difference and do something worthwhile. Which sounds cliché—I don't want to sound like I'm passing judgment on people who do work in the entertainment industry still, or anyone who works in an office or a restaurant or a store, like those things aren't worthwhile or that you have to have a job that "means something". That's not my intention. But for me, thinking about working towards something that felt so right just took all the stress and worrying I had off my shoulders.
> 
> AS:  
> You don't regret leaving the glamor of Hollywood, then?
> 
> J:  
> Not at all. I don't regret being a part of it either, though. Acting was a great love of mine, and the lessons I leaned and god, the friends I made there, are going to last my whole life and have enriched it more than I can say. I couldn't have done this without the benefits of my success behind me and I feel pretty blessed.
> 
> AS:  
> And now that you're almost there, how does it feel?
> 
> J:  
> It feels amazing, it really does. It's hard work and stressful and the responsibility is pretty scary, but it feels so exciting. I've got good links with the Humane Society of South-East Dallas, they've been super helpful to me.
> 
> AS:  
> Tell us a little about your shelter.
> 
> J:  
> It's going to be called the Padalecki Animal Shelter, and we're a couple months away from opening. The premises are beautiful, just west of Dallas on Route 30. It'll be no-kill, of course. We have space for a pretty large shelter, so we're going to take in and care for and place unwanted animals, with an on-site vet for spaying, neutering and microchipping clinics, and vaccinations. We're hoping to expand into community education programs once we're up and running. I'm really into that, I think it's the first place to start, I really do. I have plans for integrating social media in a much bigger way when it comes to shelter's profiles and awareness—but I think I need to learn to walk before I can run, so I'll stop there!
> 
> AS:  
> That all sounds pretty exciting to us! How can we help?
> 
> J:  
> Well, like any shelter, it's a nonprofit with a significant volunteer staff presence. I'm funding the startup but it's going to have to run on donations on a long-term basis. Anything to help raise the profile of the associated charity, Padalecki Animal Trust, is wonderful. My fans have so far been amazing, I'm humbled and lucky, but every little bit helps, you know?
> 
> AS:  
> We do, and we'll do what we can. How have your family and friends taken this?
> 
> J:  
> I think everyone thinks I'm a little bit nuts! But no, they've been really supportive for the most part, and my mom is just glad it brought me back closer to home, Texas. One of the only downsides is that it's taken me farther from my friends who are based in LA, but I guess there's always a sacrifice, and that's what cell phones are for, right?
> 
> AS:  
> Thanks for talking to us today, Jared, and good luck! I hope we'll be back in touch after things are up and running to see how it's going.
> 
> J:  
> No, thank you guys for giving me your time, I appreciate it so much. I'll definitely be talking to you again.  
>  _Interview by T. Cook; Photos by R. Smith_  
> 

 

\--

>   
> The Humane Society of the United States  
> Animal Sheltering Magazine  
> Thank you for your subscription, MR. JENSEN ACKLES  
> 

\--

>   
> Welcome to **Twitter**
> 
> missgg446: omg! just saw Jensen & @DanneelHarris at cafe in Paris..!!!
> 
> angies1tt: OMG were they cute :)
> 
> missgg446: lol er, they lookd like they were fighting, Dan was shouting. :O!!
> 
> Ackleangelx: OMG OMG RT @missgg446: lol er, they lookd like they were fighting, Dan was shouting. :O!!
> 
> Kaytieladie: @DanneelHarris OMG are you guys breaking up????  
> 

\--

Paul raises his eyebrows as Jared drags himself in. "Jared, are you alright?"

Jared shakes himself. "Sure. Sorry, I just—sleepless night, you know? Thinking about all the shit I still have to organize. Man, I've hardly touched on organizing admin and reception staff, I was so worried about getting a vet who can do those hours—"

It's only partly true, as those worries were generously diluted with unhappy thoughts about the Jensen Situation. It's a whole separate box in his mind than worries like the Vet Situation and the License Application Situation and the What Color to Paint the Reception Area Situation. He is possibly going a little crazy while Jensen's having a romantic vacation in the City of Love with his gorgeous wife. Jared rubs a hand over his face.

Paul shakes his head. "None of that. We've got something that should cheer you up today."

Jared perks up. It's his fifth day at the South-East Dallas Humane Society shelter on what he calls his 'immersion training' and what Paul calls 'a pain in my ass', though he obviously doesn't actually mind—he's half adopted Jared. He's a round ruddy-cheeked Texas ex-farmer who's pushing sixty-five and has eight grandchildren, and reminds Jared strongly of his own grandfather, so Jared doesn't mind in the slightest being mother-henned in.

There have been ups and down in the past few days. One cat that really should have been taken to an emergency vet—died almost as soon as it was brought in, greatly upsetting the little girl of the family who'd hit it with their car. They also had to turn down, due to space, an elderly dog of an elderly woman who couldn't cope with him anymore. She'll have to take it to the Dallas City animal shelter, which has space but isn't no-kill, where the dog will most likely be held for seven days then efficiently euthanized. There are parts to this job Jared hates, but as Paul's told him enough times, it's akin to being a doctor. You have to care, but you can't let it destroy you when bad things happen, because then you're no good for the next live one that needs your help.

"About 11," says Paul, leaning happily on the corner of his reception area where Leon the receptionist clacks away at the computer, phone held between his shoulder and his ear, "we have a lady coming in who found a stray cat behind her house. She took it in, but it was pregnant and now it has five kittens, which she doesn't really have the space for. She weaned them off the mother and now she's bringing them in for rehoming and for spaying the mom so she can get it licensed and keep her."

"We have space for kittens?" says Jared, but he grins.

"Son, we always have space for kittens. You'll learn that soon enough. They're the gold dust of animal rehoming. I have sixteen people on a waiting list wanting to rehome kittens. They'll be gone in two days tops, so enjoy them today while you can."

Jared's been trying his hardest to really pay attention to what goes on at the shelter, the different roles and jobs, the routines and schedules. When the kittens come in, though, he pretty much loses all higher brain function.

"Oh my god," he says, carefully dipping his hands into the box of kittens the lady places on the low counter. They're five tiny eight-week old balls of fluff. The mother is a mixed breed but small boned, and the kittens are even smaller than he'd expect for eight weeks. They're tumbling over each other in the box, batting at him as his fingers softly descend into the pile.

He can't help but scoop one up, one of its brothers or sisters half on top of it scrambling a little and ending up in his palm, too, the both of them fitting easily. He brings them carefully up to cradle against his chest, rubbing a finger down one's tiny nose. It opens its mouth and catches his fingertip, and Jared finds himself totally _not_ giggling in delight.

The lady who brought them in, Dina, laughs at him and looks at the green volunteer staff shirt Paul made him wear. "Aren't you immune to this if you work here?" she says, amused.

"I'm pretty new," he says, still fixated on the kittens and their sleepy eyes and tiny pink noses and delicate tiny ribs showing above their round little bellies when they breathe. He tears himself away to declare to Dina, "and I hope I _never_ get immune to this."

"You're an overgrown kid," says Paul, deadpan. "And you're damn well made for this."

Jared knows that his life with the shelter isn't going to be boxfuls of tiny kittens every day. There will be sick animals and ones they can't help, cases of neglect and abuse, relentless donation pushes, and other awful things. He's learning that it's moments like this that you work for.

He snaps a picture with his phone of the two orange kittens in his hand and hesitates a moment before sending it to Jensen with the caption, 'Best job ever!'

Later on, he kneels in a pile of dog poop in the kennels while on a cleaning rotation and takes a picture of his shit-covered knee, sending it with the caption 'Or maybe not...'

He doesn't hear back, but he's glad he sent them anyway.

\--

>   
> SPOTTED THIS WEEK!  
> Katherine Heigl apparently forgoing the diet and getting a venti mocha with caramel at a central LA Starbucks...Supernatural's Jensen Ackles leaving LAX looking tired and irritable and cruising for a fight with paparazzi...One Tree Hill's Antwon Tanner arriving at...  
> 

\--

"What do you mean, a different department? It's Animal Control, we're an animal shelter, what problem could there possibly—"

Jared's lawyer, Sarah, interrupts him, and Jared sighs, dropping his head all the way down to rest on the counter, phone held loosely to his ear. He came to the premises to do a last minute check before the pre-licensing inspection tomorrow and ended up getting sucked into paperwork and calls, spreading his stuff out over the reception desk in the dimness of the late afternoon.

"Of course," he mumbles, "of course they have sub-departments, of course they misfiled the licensing application somewhere that isn't Animal Protection, of course we can reschedule the fucking inspection to next week. No, I know it's not your fault, sorry. I'm just—yeah."

Sarah hangs up with promises to shout at the right people to see if they can have it happen sooner than that, and Jared drops the phone with a sigh. He has the licensed vet ready and a skeleton crew of start-up admin and volunteer staff, the decoration and infrastructure of the main building is ready, installation of the kennels is mostly complete, the other pens are all in place, the lease is signed and the down payments made, the charity is in the middle of a healthy start-up donation drive, the storefront signage is being delivered next week. Finalizing their application for the the premises license for keeping animals is the last step.

Jared knows intellectually that it will happen, that a delay of a week or so is not the end of the world, but right now it feels like one more thing he can't fucking deal with. He slams both his hands down, and the turned-off computer attached to the reception desk wobbles dangerously.

"Shit!" he shouts out into the empty, ready premises, and gets up from the reception desk and walks in aimless, frustrated motions through the large entrance lounge, into the veterinary clinic room to check one more time that the drainage systems and hygiene regulations are all met.

There's a knock on the front door.

For a dumb moment, Jared thinks it's someone here to do the inspection. Maybe they found the application and decided to carry it out today as an apology. Then he shakes his head and asks himself when he's ever known a state department to actually be efficient. He heads back towards the front, expecting it to be—hell, he doesn't know, his lawyer, the real estate agent, Paul, the signage people, or any of the deliveries they've ordered for next week coming in early.

There's just one person with a small bag standing outside the glass doors, and though Jared instantly recognizes the shape of him, it takes a moment for his conscious brain to catch up.

He hasn't seen Jensen in months, not since LA a few weeks before the night on the phone.

He fumbles awkwardly with the key before he jerks one door open and manages to let Jensen in.

Jared takes a step back into the reception area in complete confusion as Jensen drops his bag and leans against the door he'd closed behind him.

Jared shakes his head. "What are you doing here, man?"

Jensen looks wrecked—exhausted, eyes red and skin pale. He tries on a grin, and it looks awful. "Thought I'd come see the place."

Jared just stares at him. "You haven't talked to me in weeks. I called and texted and I was close to giving up on you, man."

Jensen's shaking his head. "Yeah, I know, I—I was dealing with shit."

"What?"

"Danni and I are getting a divorce."

Jensen takes two big steps towards him, and Jared's body slams into awareness of what he's going to do a second before Jensen kisses him. It's like the parking lot outside the wrap party all over again, full-body shock narrowing down to a tingling hyperawareness of the shape of Jensen's mouth crushed against his own.

Jensen's hands are wide and firm on his face, holding him still, and his mouth is warm and chapped, hot when he opens it against Jared's lips. Jared's body shudders with an uncontrollable surge of want as he curls himself into Jensen, mouth sliding open and letting Jensen's wet tongue press in, his hands landing possessive and tight on Jensen's hips, tugging him in.

Reality asserts itself with a cold thud, and Jared shoves Jensen away, wiping his wet mouth with the hand that had just been starting to press up under Jensen's shirt.

"What the fuck are you _doing_?"

Jensen stumbles back, steadying himself with the flat smack of his palm against the glass doors. His eyes are wide and shocked. "I—fuck, Jared, I thought this is what you wanted! I told you, Danni and I—"

"No!" shouts Jared, then forces his voice back down. "No, you do not get to just do this." He glares at Jensen, who's backlit by the low evening sun, expression hard to make out. Jared looks behind him, out the glass doors, tracks the pass of cars, then back at Jensen. He makes a terse 'follow me' gesture and walks through to the vet clinic, tells Jensen to shut the door behind him so they can have at least the illusion of privacy.

Jensen drops his bag down onto the floor, shoulders tense before he turns to face Jared, head held high. "Isn't this what you wanted? I stopped being a coward, I—I did something, Jared, and now I'm here."

Jared shakes his head. "Do you want me to congratulate you? You've been ignoring me for weeks, Jensen, I didn't know what to think. I know how shitty it is to go through something like that, I could've helped, or just talked, but you—"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shut you out, I know, but—god. Jared. You don't know what it's like. I'm sorry, but you don't. I couldn't talk to you about it, you—"

"Why not? You let me talk you half to death when it was me, and I—"

"Because this was _about you_ , you moron! You have to know that. I broke up with my wife, whom I loved, because I'm _in_ love with you. Talking about it with anyone was impossible. Let alone you." He gave a unamused laugh.

Jared blinks, open his mouth, and can't think of a way to start, not sure if he needs to agree or deny. He takes an involuntary step back, the weight of that information making the air feel thicker, harder to breathe.

He shakes his head. "In l—" he starts, then shuts his mouth hard, because that's not going to help. That's something he needs to get his head around some time when Jensen isn't an overtired, stressed, unpredictable mess in front of him.

He rubs a hand through his hair. "Jesus, Jensen, I'm also always going to be your friend," he says instead. "And yeah, we _could_ have talked about it. You're the one who made it impossible."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not perfect," Jensen says, and it starts out a snapped retort and finishes more raw and vulnerably genuine than Jensen probably intended, and it makes something twist in Jared's chest.

"You always make things more difficult for yourself than they need to be," says Jared softly, then regrets it when Jensen's face shutters.

"Says the guy who decided to run a new business single-handed for, what, the fun of it? Look, I didn't come here to discuss my many flaws, Jared. I'm all too aware of them."

"What did you come here for, then?"

Jensen licks his lips. "I. I wanted to see you. To tell you. And I—fuck, Jared. Come on." He steps forward again, a set of determination in his shoulders that's familiar now, and this time Jared's hands come up to grab him as he goes in.

Jared thought he was intending to push Jensen away, but his hands curl around Jensen's shoulders without permission and pull Jensen in close.

Their noses bump, close and intimate, and then they're kissing again, open wet mouths. Jared realizes this is the first time Jensen has kissed him sober; it's good. Oh, god, it's good. Jensen kisses like he does everything, with all his skill and focus and heart, and it's overwhelming. Jared's seen Jensen kiss enough girls when filming to imagine how the two of them must look, except with Jensen's face tilted up to his, god. There's a frantic, filthy edge to it that's something new and private.

Jensen's body is warm, solid and immediate, arching against him, and it triggers the memories of how he sounded on the phone, the needy whimpering sounds of him getting off for Jared; Jared's dick is heavy and wanting between his legs, pushing aside reason, because Jensen feels so fucking good.

Jensen's hands slide up Jared's face to curl in his hair, make fists and tug, the satisfying pull and flash of pain making Jared moan right into Jensen's mouth, open his mouth wider, slide his tongue along Jensen's deep into his mouth then bump along the ridge of his teeth. Jensen tastes like sleep and airplane gin and tonic.

Jared leans back against the counter, spreads his legs slightly so Jensen's hips slide between his thighs.

Jensen bites sharply at his lip, mutters into Jared's mouth, "Knew you wanted it." He forces himself in closer, spreads Jared's legs apart. "Gonna let me, like I said, yeah—"

"Ngh," moans Jared into the kiss, body thrumming with new sensations. The sheer maleness of Jensen's body hard against his is exciting in a way he hardly knew it could be, and more than a little scary, the newness and intensity making him pant.

Jensen eases up a little on the insistent push of his hips between Jared's thighs. "We can play it either way," he says. "I just—Jared, you're making me crazy. I gotta do something. Fuck me, if you want. Come on, come on, fuck me—"

His hands fall to push at Jared's hips, and Jared goes with the movement, hopping up to sit on the counter, and Jensen immediately scrambles up after him, knees on either side of Jared's hips and pressing Jared back until they're solidly on the table, then he settles himself right down on Jared's lap.

Jared drops his head back at the warm, heavy weight of Jensen's ass rubbing down against his dick, and he pumps his hips helplessly. He's so hard he feels dizzy and unreal.

Jensen pulls his shirt off in swift efficient movements, and his skin is hot and smooth when Jared's hands are drawn to the wide planes of his bare shoulders.

"No idea how much I've thought about your big cock," says Jensen breathlessly, rolling his ass into Jared in slutty, incredible motions that have Jared shaking with arousal. It's overwhelming.

"I don't—I haven't ever—" gasps Jared, eyes rolling back and thoughts splintering wildly as Jensen puts his gorgeous plush mouth to Jared's neck and sucks over his pulse.

Jensen slows his hips, then, and Jared is half relieved and half mournful to lose that intensely good rhythm, but at least he can get his head together.

Jensen moves back up to his mouth, and Jared finds himself tensing; Jensen kisses him more softly than before, and just says, "Yeah. I know. I gotcha."

The show of sweetness makes Jared feel better, and somehow turns him on even more. This is new, it's a guy, it's dirty and frantic and they probably shouldn't be doing it, but it's _Jensen_. It's his best friend, it's someone he knows inside and out and yeah, it's someone he loves. He's thought about this a lot, and now he's got it—he's allowed to have it—he's not going to let the opportunity drop through his fingers.

The strained past months show that something's gotta give between them, and avoiding this now is probably more likely to ruin them forever than giving in. So Jared will take the risk sex offers for few other reasons than that he _wants_ it.

There's no other choice he can make—not with the way Jensen's looking at him, dark, half-lidded eyes and an obscenely kiss-swollen mouth, murmuring, "I want you to fuck me, Jared."

"Playing dirty, Ackles," he says, with a tug of a wild grin. "How am I supposed to say no to that?"

Jensen meets his eyes, an amusement in them that makes Jared feels wild and invincible, like the earliest giddy days of their friendship, bar brawls and interviews and pranks and having so much fun. "I know how to work you, buddy," he says.

This is still them; it's just a different kind of fun.

"You got any—" Jared asks.

Jensen takes Jared's hand and molds it to his ass; under the firm swell of it, Jared can feel the bump of something in his back pocket. "Thank me later," he says.

Jared tightens his grip on Jensen's ass, belly clenching hotly at the slight give of flesh, then brings his other arm underneath Jensen's ass and braced across his thighs, then slides himself forward off the table.

Jensen's grunt of surprise and the way he wraps his legs firmly around Jared's waist to cling on is unbelievably sexy, and Jared feels big and powerful as he walks them across the room until Jensen's back hits the wall; his legs drop down slowly to steady himself on the ground as Jared goes back in to kiss him.

Jensen keeps his hands around the back of Jared's neck, hitching his hips up into Jared's until Jared can't bear the muted, bulky sensation of all their clothes in the way and starts tearing open their jeans.

"Ungh," he grunts when he's surprised by the blood-hot touch of Jensen's dick against his knuckles, no underwear in the way. His own dick jerks, sticky precome wetting his boxers clinging to the head, until he can pull his cock out too. He wraps his hand around the both of them, staring intently down at how it looks, their two flushed hard cockheads shoved together, the differences and similarities. His own dick is wetter than Jensen's, precome puddling out as he stares; it makes his grip slick as he jerks them together, swollen heads popping obscenely through the ring of his fingers.

"Ah, Christ," says Jensen, voice strained, and Jared remembers it from the phone call. He jerks his head up to see the face that goes with it, Jensen's white teeth digging into his reddened bottom lip, the strain around his eyes as he drops his head back to the wall. "Your fucking hand. Fingers. Fuck."

Jared's heart is pounding thick and heavy in his chest, and he knows he could go off like this easy, coming thickly all over Jensen's dick and his own fingers, but there's an urgency fizzing in his veins that wants more. He wants to make Jensen feel it, as deeply as he is.

He stops his hand jerking them with a superhuman effort, balls throbbing in protest, and slumps down to rest his forehead on Jensen's collarbone, panting. He bites down just as Jensen says, "Jared—"

"Turn around," he counters.

Jensen licks his lips, and does so, slowly, the curve of his shoulder and the play of muscle gleaming in his back drawing Jared's eye.

Jared doesn't want to wait. He steps back enough to grab Jensen's hips and forcibly turn him, pulling Jensen's jeans down to his thighs with the one hand as he presses Jensen against the wall with the other hand between his shoulder blades.

"God—" says Jensen, bringing his forearms up to brace against the wall, muscles shifting gloriously under his skin.

Jared runs both his hands over the pale swell of Jensen's bare ass, dick jerking in a wet smack against his belly as Jensen shudders and arches back into the light squeeze Jared gives him. He lets go, transfixed by the movement and give of his ass, then fumbles in the folded-over pocket of Jensen's jeans to get the slim packet of lube and condom Jensen has shoved in there.

He's distantly aware he's still a little nervous—before tonight he'd only ever kissed another guy, and he's getting ready to fuck one, and it's Jensen. This is huge, but he wants it in a fierce and unrelenting way that shoves everything else out of the picture. He's had plenty of sex and he's smart, and neither he nor Jensen are gonna break; it's scary but also right that of course this is with Jensen, that they finally got here.

He holds the packet of lube between his teeth as he rolls on the condom first, feeling an illicitly arrogant thrill at how his dick looks, big and gleaming in rubber; he rocks forward to slip it in between the cheeks of Jensen's ass for a moment.

Jensen moans outright, pressing straight back into it, and Jared's body seizes with a spike of arousal, balls drawing up tight and cock jerking in its snug hold between Jensen's cheeks. He brings his hand down to grip the base of his dick between two fingers, pressing down just right to stave it off, haul himself back from the edge.

"Come on," says Jensen, rubbing back. "Fucking do it, _please_."

Jared opens his mouth against Jensen's smooth shoulder blade, fumbling with the lube packet, digging his teeth in to make Jensen hiss as he smears it over his fingers and, feeling bold and excited, slips his index finger down between Jensen's cheeks.

His asshole is a tight bud of crinkled skin and ridged muscle under Jared's slick finger, and Jared closes his eyes at how insane and dirty-sexy this feels; he can feel it twitch and clench under his touch, resist the push with an almost scary strength, then suddenly open up, letting his finger slide in smoothly.

The soft-hard grip around Jared's finger feels incredible, and he can't imagine this choking grip around his dick. "Oh, Jesus," he moans, and presses the side of his hot face against Jensen's even hotter back, the two of them running warm and sweating in the small room with the heat between them.

"Fuck—unh, fuck me with it," demands Jensen, so Jared does. He draws his finger out and fucks it in again, going deeper each time, easy past the first knuckle, then the rim slipping over the second until Jensen's swallowing up almost the full length of his finger.

"More?" he asks. He still can't imagine his dick getting in there, but he knows it will and already the grip is less intense around his finger.

"Nah," says Jensen, breathless but moving back into Jared's careful thrusts, "just keep going. I'll loosen, then it'll be easier to just go straight to dick."

Jared moans, eyes closing again helplessly at the thought. "God."

He draws his finger out, squeezes the rest of the lube out and slicks it over his cock. He holds his dick and nudges it up against Jensen's hole, feeling the loosened edge of it kiss the head of his cock, ready for him.

"Yeah—" says Jensen, and then Jared is pressing in; it's a hard push at first, Jensen's hole opening around the tip of his cock but resisting the full girth of it; then Jensen grunts and tenses then relaxes all over, bears down and lets Jared in, in a breath-stealing deep slide.

Jared holds his cock at the base, feeds it in 'til it's deep, then lets go and grabs Jensen's hips with both hands and moans as he rocks the rest of it in with little nudges, until his hipbones brush Jensen's ass. "Oh, god, oh—Jensen, you—"

"One minute," says Jensen, head down and shoulders tense; he lets out a long breath. "God. Yeah, okay—god, you're big. Move, c'mon."

Jared's hips take the permission sooner than his brain wants to, pulsing in a regular fucking rhythm, just little rocks in and out at first, then as Jensen loosens a little, deeper ones, the gripping drag along the length of his cock intense and amazing. He shoves back in hard and Jensen lets out a noise, a good one, a moan like he's loving getting filled by Jared, and it spurs Jared on, makes him a little crazy, fucking Jensen harder and harder until the smack of their skin echoes around the room along with Jensen's bitten off yells and Jared's low groans.

Jared has to close his eyes as it gets more intense, pressing his forehead to the soft skin at the nape of Jensen's neck, shifting as he fucks him hard, harder. His orgasm is coming close, a Mack truck roaring down a highway, and his chest feels too tight, his throat thick. He wraps his arm around Jensen's chest and pulls him back closer so they're pressed skin to skin, turns his face into Jensen's hair and breathes him in so Jensen is all around him, undoing him. He knocks Jensen's hand away from where he's jerking himself off and takes over, fucks him with harsh snaps of his hips and wrings his orgasm out of him with tight fingers around his straining dick. When he feels Jensen shudder in his arms, clamp down on him, and come wetly over Jared's hand, he doesn't think he can deal with it all.

"Oh, shit," he says, mindlessly. "Oh, god, Jensen—you, you—you fucking make me so—oh, god, Jensen—"

He grabs back onto Jensen's hips and hauls him back hard onto Jared's dick as he comes in hard, long spurts, come pulsing tight into the condom.

For a moment all he can hear is the roar in his ears, then his body lets him go from the grip of his orgasm, and he relaxes, fingers releasing their aching tight grip on Jensen's hips. He can hear their breathing, now, harsh pants in the white sterile room, sounds bouncing back at them.

God, the hygiene regulations they just dramatically broke in here. Jensen's come is dripping down the wall in front of him. Jared nearly laughs, pressing his face into Jensen's back. It's a good thing he has a few more days to hose this damn place down again.

He makes a soft noise as he brings his hands down to ease his softening cock out of Jensen's hole, which looks puffy and red and wet with lube. He slides off the condom, ties it, and tosses it on the floor for now. He'll deal with it when he re-disinfects the room.

He shakes his head, realizing he's thinking too much about the damn hygiene regulations because he doesn't know how he's supposed to react and feel about Jensen right now. He remembers why he was pissed with Jensen, but now, his body humming and relaxed from orgasm, it's hard to hold onto. Jensen's here, wants him, and maybe Jared's spark of hope wasn't totally dumb. Maybe they can work this out.

He bites his lip, unsure, and watches Jensen turn around and start doing up his jeans.

"Hey," he says.

Jensen looks up at him and half-smiles. "Hey," he says back, and steps towards Jared, then stops, awkward, scratches at his head. "I, uh—I actually gotta go." He tries for an apologetic smile.

Jared frowns, nonplussed. "What?"

"I gotta get back to LA. Danni and I have a meeting with a divorce lawyer tomorrow."

Jared stares at him. "You—" He feels ridiculous with his pants splayed open and his dick hanging out, so he looks down and stuffs his still sensitive dick into his pants, zips up.

He's pissed all over again by the time he looks back up at Jensen.

"Are you serious?"

Jensen's expression is cautious, like he doesn't know how best to respond, and that annoys Jared further.

"You don't see a problem with this? You ignore me for weeks, you arrive here out of nowhere after radio silence, push yourself on me and then go back to your wife because you haven't even finalized your divorce."

"I'm not going _back to my wife_ , Jesus, Jared! You know well as I do it's not like these things are quick. Is the paperwork part that important to you?"

"No, of course not. It's the fact you can't even—stay."

He sounds petulant, he knows, but. Jared has always tried to be pretty open-minded about sexuality in general—he'd never thought of himself as exclusively straight mostly because it had always made more sense to him to view sexuality more in terms of a sliding scale than a binary. But the concept was one thing, whereas now—he's just had sex with a guy for the first time, and it feels like a big deal. Not that he exactly expected Jensen to stay and cuddle with him, but he can't help the way it feels like a punch to the gut to have him just zip up and walk out.

Jensen looks at the floor, the wall, before he drags his gaze back to Jared, shoulders tense and low.

"You think I want to leave right now and go back and deal with all this shit? Jared. I wanna—if I could stay with you—"

"Would you? Really? I don't have any reason to expect you to be less of a coward now." The jab doesn't make the twist in his belly ease at all; just tightens it.

"That's not fair."

Jared feels ashamed and still angry all at once. He's fed up of getting scraps from Jensen, when he's used to getting so much of him. "It just keeps on feeling like I'm not important enough for you to actually do this. Like you've got so much else to be doing, like it's so easy for you to run away."

"You think I don't feel like that too? My life is a fucking mess because of you, and I know, I _know_ it's not your fault. It's all on me. But you're still this absent figure in the middle of it; all you do is run around with your new project up here."

"I told you. It was never about leaving you behind."

"Yeah, well. Maybe I technically know that." Jensen taps his head, then drops his hand past his chest, hesitates as if he were going to press it there, then it falls to his side. "But I don't always feel it." His mouth is tense and unhappy, but he's looking right at Jared.

Jared opens his mouth, maybe to reassure Jensen again, maybe to yell at him, maybe to tell him that he loves him too, because he never said that, but he sees Jensen's eyes flick away, towards his watch, and he gives up. Leans back against the exam table and feels abruptly exhausted.

"Yeah," he says tiredly. "Just. Go, if you gotta."

"Jared—"

Jared shakes his head.

"Shit. Shit!" Jensen picks up his duffle in angry, jerky movements. "Every time, I fuck this up. I don't—" He rubs a fretful had over his mouth and walks to the door, looking back at Jared, maybe like he hopes Jared will stop him.

Jared just stares at the wall, because he probably will stop Jensen if he looks at him, and what good is that going to do when Jensen is still going to leave him tonight for L.A anyway? It'll hurt either way; at least this way is over sooner.

Jensen shrugs. "For what it's worth—I'm sorry. Good luck with opening this place. You're gonna do awesome."

A few moments later Jared hears the main front door closing and it's only the instinct of getting up to lock it after Jensen that gets him moving off the table.

\--

>   
> Claery & Blacks LLP  
> Temporary-filed transcripts from initial divorce mediation consultation  
> September 15th 2012  
> 11.20 AM  
> Parties:  
> Mr. Jensen Ackles  
> Mrs. Danneel Ackles-Harris
> 
>  
> 
>  _EXCERPT_
> 
> MEDIATOR:  
> Thank you both for coming today. This is a private, confidential discussion. Records are kept as company policy but only on a temporary basis and we destroy them after one week; nothing you say here will become incriminating should you decide mediation is not your ideal path and the case proceeds through the courts.
> 
> J.:  
> No, no courts.
> 
> D.:  
> We want this to be as, as amicable as possible, we both want it and we want it to be as painless as possible. Just tell us what we need to sign.
> 
> MEDIATOR:  
> What are the grounds you want to file on?
> 
> J.:  
> Irreconcilable differences
> 
> MEDIATOR:  
> Mrs. Ackles?
> 
> D.:  
> Please call me Danneel. Or Ms. Harris if you must. Considering. I—I don't know. Infidelity.
> 
> J.:  
> Danni, I told you I didn't! I promise!
> 
> D.:  
> Jensen, you know I hate to not believe you, but—I don't know! I know there's something you aren't telling me, and it's not fair.
> 
> J.:  
> I haven't—I never had sex with anyone else when we were together. But there is someone, I—we kissed. A while ago.
> 
> D.:  
> Color me surprised.
> 
> MEDIATOR:  
> If you can't mutually decide on grounds, that has to go through a different pathway.
> 
> J.:  
> Danni, look at me, come on. I'm sorry, I guess I—I know I fucked this up every step of the way. But if—all that aside. If there wasn't anyone else. Are you still in love with me?
> 
> D.:  
> I—Jensen, come on.
> 
> J.:  
> Danni.
> 
> D.:  
> I—no, okay? I'm not. I thought maybe we could be again.
> 
> J.:  
> Yeah, me too. It would be easier, wouldn't it?
> 
> D.:  
> But you're not and I'm not so I guess we have to do this. Something has to change, right? And I'm still angry at you, Jensen, because what you've been doing—whatever it is, I don't want to know the details of what you think counts as cheating—it was still unfair.
> 
> J.:  
> I know. I've been a dick. I do love you and I—
> 
> D.:  
> I do too, you idiot. Just give me some time, okay?
> 
> MEDIATOR:  
> Are we agreed on the grounds?
> 
> D.:  
> Irreconcilable differences.
> 
> MEDIATOR:  
> I'll take note of that, and at the end, we'll draw up the documents for signatures. Next step—you don't have any children, so we need to move on to discuss division of property and assets...  
> 

\--

It's insane how different the place feels three days after opening. It felt nice, before, but large, distant, everything held in potential.

Now, Jared hardly has time to stop and look around, but when he can, he knows again this was definitely the right place to choose. The large glass front lets light flood in, the reception area is angled back so it's pleasantly light but not in the glare of the sun when it's shining; the acoustics of the place absorb enough noise so it's not deafening, but keeps up a pleasant level of ambient noise that makes Jared's stomach swoop happily because of how it feels like a real animal shelter. A lot of the kennels and pens are empty, but they have three dogs already, and a booked-out cage for a pregnant cat coming in tomorrow, and an odd number of rabbits in small pens.

Jared didn't give himself a specific role other than 'owner' because he didn't trust his experience and knowledge enough to actually run it from the start. He hired a supervisor who used to manage a shelter in Ohio, and who's absolutely perfect. Her manner reminds Jared a little of an old science teacher he had in seventh grade so much that he's tempted to see if his school has record of a Mrs. Carole Luckerman ever at least substituting there. She's stern and completely in control and has a poorly concealed soft spot a mile wide.

She's already thrown out Jared's tentative schedules and organizational plans and re-organized everything to her liking in ways that are ten times more efficient.

He still finds himself run ragged, busy with a thousand tasks, jumping in his car more than once and running to buy pet and cleaning supplies from the Wal-Mart 20 minutes away, Carole's list clutched in his hand.

He runs back in with packs of super-absorbent towels which Carole takes from him with a tutting noise, stacking them in what he'd earmarked as his office which she'd promptly turned into the main storage room. She left him with the smaller room near the kennels, and he thinks she probably did him a favor, because wandering in there earlier, being able to hear the noise of the dogs moving around and barking and smell them faintly enough to be pleasant, he thinks he's going to like it better in there.

She bats him out of the way as he tries to go over and see how the rabbits are doing. "Out from under my feet, mister. You're just the owner and the pretty face around here, so go feel important at the front desk or something."

He spends most of his time shadowing or helping her, because one day he'd like to have a full grasp on running the entire place himself, so her expertise is invaluable; sometimes his being underfoot is more hindrance than help and she'll shoo him off to do some more menial tasks—or the ones that involve the charity. What she calls being "the pretty face and moneybags."

He already knows she has a harsh way of joking and she'll do it more the more she likes you, but he tries his hardest to disabuse her of the notion that that's the sort of owner he wants to be.

"I have to be hands-on," he says. "I'm not going to be precious about anything—I'll do whatever needs doing."

Which is how he finds himself on hands and knees in the kennels, scrubbing at what really, after only three days and three dogs, is a pretty clean floor.

He falls into bed each night after overseeing the transfer to the night time guard, tired and completely satisfied. Well, not completely.

He barely has time to think about Jensen. He still does.

\--

>   
> The Dallas Morning News  
> Texas' Leading Newspaper  
> Monday October 1st 2012
> 
>  **TV Star Opens Animal Shelter**  
>  JARED Padalecki, the Texas born TV star of the show SUPERNATURAL, the last season of which aired on the CW television network earlier this year, has opened the doors to Padalecki Animal Shelter in West Dallas off Route 30. The shelter is a large, privately owned, no-kill shelter which takes in and places unwanted or abandoned animals. The shelter's first adoption drive is this Saturday, October 6th, with a reduced adoption fee of $50 plus free spaying/neutering and microchipping.
> 
> The shelter's charity, the Padalecki Animal Trust, has a website at http://www.padaleckianimaltrust.com for more information on the charity and the newly-opened shelter.
> 
>  
> 
> Please remember, private shelters are unable to help dangerous wildlife or violent animals. Contact Animal Control for these matters at (214) 572-6700, or contact your local police.
> 
> Padalecki Animal Shelter, 8400 Jefferson Row, Dallas, TX 74267  
> Article by F. Evans © Dallas Morning News  
> 

\--

>   
> FROM: Mom  
> Jensen, have you seen the dallas papers?????? why on EARTH did I not know about Jared opening an animal shelter here in Texas???? Call me RIGHT NOW.  
> STATUS: Read
> 
> FROM:Jared  
> I got [...]  
> STATUS: Unread  
> 

\--

>   
> Jared P [jpadtexas@gmail.com] to Jensen Ackles [j.r.ackles@gmail.com]  
> show details Oct 10th (1 day ago)
> 
> Jensen,  
> I don't know what else to say, so for now I'll say thank you for the donation. I wanted you to be here when we opened. I want you to see the place. There's a grumpy little dog we got in today that reminds me of Icarus. Call me.
> 
> J  
> 

  
\--

"I know it's been a while, but come on, pick up the damn phone!" Jared says as Jensen's message recording plays. He ends the call in frustration instead of leaving another message.

He was angry at Jensen for a while, and it had taken him some time to realize how much he wished he had said something to Jensen to make him stay that night, even for just a short while. He'd seen a whole lot of hurt underneath Jensen's front and knew why he'd acted how he had. That's the thing about friendship—and love: you kinda have to be able to forgive people. Especially when they try to make things right; even when they do it in ill-advised ways.

He returned the favor of leaving Jensen hanging, ignoring the calls he'd gotten the next couple of days after Jensen had gone back to LA, and it hadn't made him feel any better, just added guilt onto his own anger. Now of course when Jared has finally decided to pull himself together, Jensen isn't answering.

"We suck at this," he mutters, pocketing the phone. More than anything else, he misses the bastard.

They haven't been in sync since before the wrap party, and even when everything else in his life is getting on track, he and Jensen aren't. Jared refuses to believe one is a sacrifice for the other.

He looks at his website, the photos of the shelter, the testimonials already building up, and the reports his charity administrator sends him about the donations coming in. He thinks about the three successful rehomings they managed in a week, and he doesn't regret it for a second. He can see the rest of his life stretching out right here, and there's just no way that life isn't going to include Jensen in some way.

He typed out texts and emails countless times since Jensen left, telling him that maybe he didn't say it, but Jensen didn't give him much choice—of course Jared's in love with him too and isn't it fucking obvious? But—and maybe he's being pathetic—he wants a chance to tell him in person. At a time when it's going to matter.

He's at the shelter the next day, taking a break from doing the food run in the kennels and ruffling the silky neck fur of an overexcitable King Charles Spaniel puppy that had come in the week before.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out awkwardly with his left hand, his right still scritching the dog. "Hey boy, heyy, boy, yeah boy!" he's saying as he answers the phone without looking.

"Um," says Jensen.

Jared stands up so quickly his knees pop in protest, and the puppy whines frantically at the loss of his scritches. "Jensen!"

"Is that—are you at the shelter?"

"Yeah, that's Billy whining, I was petting him."

"Sorry, Billy," says Jensen, sounding like he's smiling.

"He'll get over it." Jared feels breathless. "Hi."

"Hi. Jared, I just wanted to say I'm sorry, I guess, for a whole lot of stuff. I've been all over the place for months. I'm not trying to ignore you, I just need to get things straight."

"It's – that's okay. Jensen, I've been wanting you to call, 'cause I need to say—"

"No, Jay, please. Don't say anything, please, alright? I just wanted to let you know. Gimme some time. I promise I'm gonna call. And see you, and the shelter, and make up for all this shit."

"Jensen, you don't need to make up for anything, I l—fuck!" Jared makes an angry noise as Jensen hangs up again, and Billy whines and cowers.

"Shit," says Jared. Billy had been rescued by a neighbor from pretty horrific conditions, tied up outside for days on end without food and with more than one mean kick from his owners, and he's understandably more than a little skittish, though even in just the past week he's made amazing progress, flourishing under attention and love.

Jared squats back down carefully and slowly, lets Billy sniff and lick at his hand before resuming scritches. "You reckon I should just go find Jensen and pet him until he stops being so impossible? Huh? What do you think, Billy?"

Billy yaps excitedly.

Jared sighs. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

\--

> Dear Jensen Ackles,
> 
> The Padalecki Animal Trust
> 
> invites you to
> 
> The First Annual Charity Benefit Ball
> 
> On Friday, November 16th, 2012, 7:00 PM at the Hilton Garden Inn Dallas, 2325 North Stemmons Freeway, Dallas, TX 75207
> 
> In order to celebrate the opening of the Padalecki Animal Shelter and raise funds for the ongoing success of the Charity.
> 
> Please RSVP at your earliest convenience.

\--

Jared has no idea why he decided it would be a good idea to start preparations for a benefit ball on literally the day that everything started slowing down from the crazy pace that had gone along with the opening of the shelter. He figures it's either a defense mechanism so the Jensen Situation, or current lack of any Situation, doesn't drive him too insane, or that he's actually clinically masochistic.

His sister proved herself to be as spectacular as he always knew she was and took over the majority of the event planning despite her own wedding plans. "It's actually easier to plan two things at once, because when they hear I'm setting up a charity fundraiser they like to give me free stuff, and when they hear I'm booking their hall or flowers or catering for two events within a few weeks of each other, they like to give me discounts," she says, with a mischievous grin. His mom and dad have been into cahoots with Jensen's mom and dad and told him to take care of the 'Hollywood side' and they'll deal with the 'important Dallas people' side of things.

The ballroom looks fantastic. Large posters with images of the shelter and some of their long-stay animals have been put up, adoption information across the bottom, and there are donation boxes around the room, as well as small stacks of discreet forms for larger or later optionally-anonymous donations.

The items for the auction line the raised dais that runs the far length of the room, and every single person Jared spoke to donated something, even the ones who couldn't make it to the event, and a lot of them also got other people they know to donate. Chad and Danneel between them had the entire cast of One Tree Hill donate ten huge signed posters, Jeffrey Dean Morgan sent an authentic part of his costume from the Watchmen set, Sera Gamble's bringing a stack of original Supernatural screenplays with director's notes included. There are designer clothes and watches and gift bags.

He feels more than a little overwhelmed, and tugs at the collar of his tux, hopes his bowtie hasn't twisted askew. His always tend to do that without his permission.

"Jared," says Megan from behind him, and Jared whirls in the middle of the empty ballroom. She's wearing a gorgeous blue dress and a wide smile that's a little unnerving.

"Yeah?" he says nervously, and she looks behind her.

"Your first guest is here," she says.

"But it's only—" He stops when Megan leaves the ballroom with a big encouraging smile and nod, and Jensen steps in after her.

Jensen's also in a tux, a beautifully tailored one with a tie and waistcoat. He looks stupidly good, better than he has in months, relaxed and healthy and happy.

"Hey," he says.

"I though you weren't going to come," says Jared dumbly. "You didn't RSVP."

Jensen rubs a hand over the back of his neck, and the aching familiarity of the gesture makes Jared realize just how little he's seen Jensen over the past few months, and how much he misses just having him around.

They're both walking closer towards each other in the big empty ballroom.

"I know," says Jensen. "I'm sorry. Jared, look, about everything, I'm—"

Jared reaches him and puts his hand on Jensen's warm shoulder, body heat bleeding through to his palm. Their eyes snap together at the touch and heat prickles down Jared's spine. "Shh," he says. "Don't say you're sorry again. We can apologize to each other until we're blue in the face, it won't make a difference."

Jensen's face falls, and Jared shakes his head. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that! I mean, it doesn't matter because you're here now and as long as you're not going to run off again, that's all I need."

Jensen smiles at him, and it's so nice to see that, just Jensen's face and his smile, to finally not feel the fraught mix of confused want and anger that followed the rocky change in their friendship. Jensen shakes his head. "Man, we've kinda sucked at this, haven't we?"

Jared laughs. "Yeah. I think we're allergic to making it easy on ourselves."

"Hey, look," says Jensen. "I'm not apologizing, but I do want to explain. When you—went for all this, I could only see it from my point of view. You were leaving me. I panicked, and it just stirred a whole lot of shit up I'd thought wasn't a problem any more. I see now what you were doing, and it wasn't what I was worried about. You just decided you didn't like something about your life, so you changed it. It didn't mean you didn't like _everything_ about your life. And what you did was brave and awesome and I should've supported you."

"Jensen—" starts Jared, but Jensen stops him with a quirk of his eyebrows.

"I couldn't deal with things being different. Supernatural ending was one thing, but then you leaving too—I didn't know how to handle it. I had everything lined up, I had you and I had Danni and I was happy, and then it all started to fray at the edges, and I panicked, and it got worse."

He shrugs, and Jared aches for him, wishes he'd been able to help Jensen through all that—but he'd been a part of the problem, really, unwittingly maybe, but a part; and Jensen had needed to crash down in order to pick himself up.

"You changed things because you needed to. I freaked out because I couldn't handle things changing." Jensen grins. "Poetic, in a kind of fucked up way, right?"

Jared shakes his head, smiling. "I guess you could say that."

"So, I realized, in these past few weeks where I cataloged all the things I did wrong—that was fun, believe me—that I needed to step back and look at where I was. Post-marriage, post-Supernatural, post-screwing things up with you because I couldn't see things clearly." He licks his lips and glances at Jared, and Jared's belly dips.

"And I could finally see that, right now, things are finally pretty simple. There is something I don't like, and I'm gonna change it, if you'll let me."

He steps in, and Jared slides into the hot awareness of what Jensen's telegraphing with his movements seconds before it happens. His hand slips around the back of Jared's neck, sending shivers down Jared's arm, and he tilts up to kiss Jared's lips, a light, warm press. "I'm not with you," he says quietly, lips brushing Jared's in tingling little touches as he speaks, "and I'd like to be."

Everything slots into place. Jared answers by cupping Jensen's face in his hands and pulling him back up in to a real kiss, his fingers carefully pressing at Jensen's jaw to slowly open his mouth, kiss him deep and warm.

Jensen's hand slides up into Jared's hair, his other arm going close and tight around Jared's waist, and he kisses him back.

\--

>   
> Animal Sheltering Magazine  
> September 2013
> 
> Page 6  
>  **The Padalecki Animal Shelter – One Year Later**  
>  Last year, there was something a little different afoot in the world of animal welfare and sheltering, as a Hollywood star stepped in to put his money where his mouth was and actually devote the rest of his career to his passion for animals, starting by opening and running an animal shelter. Jared Padalecki of the Padalecki Animal Shelter hasn't been back in front of a camera for over a year, trading in lights, camera, action for the highs, lows and downright weird moments of running a no-kill animal shelter full time.
> 
> One year since our last interview with him, we're getting back in touch to see how he's doing, though it's not the first time he's graced our pages since [See: February 2013's issue, pg. 26, Padalecki's guest featured article on the use of Twitter, Facebook and other social media in community education and adoption drives.]
> 
> JARED:  
> It's awesome to be back! Thanks so much for getting in touch for a follow-up. It means a lot to me.
> 
> ANIMAL SHELTERING:  
> How does it feel, a year in?
> 
> J:  
> Right now? Honestly, it feels a little strange being back in front of a camera for these pictures, however many hundreds of photoshoots I've done in my life. I feel like I've totally forgotten how to act, what faces to pull. I've just been hamming it up—please apologize on my behalf to your lovely photographer.
> 
> A.S:  
> You're doing perfectly fine! But back to business—how is the shelter doing?
> 
> J:  
> Amazing, fantastic, I don't have the words. We've already expanded out back to what used to be the neighboring plot's land to fit a whole bunch more kennels in. We've had a great rate of rehoming and some pretty amazing effects on spaying and neutering animals, and microchipping, in the local community. Reported figures of stray animals locally have dropped—now that's probably just coincidence, I don't think we've had that much of an effect, but we've definitely had some of the highest numbers of bookings in the suburbs for the spaying and neutering clinics, so I'm more than happy.
> 
> A.S:  
> How has the change of career felt for you?
> 
> J:  
> I knew it would be different, but I don't think I knew just how different. As an actor, you sell yourself, an image, and people paid attention to you for who you were. Now, who I am is completely irrelevant—the 'Padalecki' part is the least important part of the shelter and the charity and its work. It's what I do that's important, not who I am, and it's what the whole shelter and my whole team does there. That's what people judge you and respect you for now, and it's definitely weird, but definitely good.
> 
> A.S:  
> Your celebrity status can't have been completely overlooked, though.
> 
> J:  
> No, it is still sometimes an issue. I get some jokes from the staff, but it's tapering off the longer I stay away from Hollywood and people start forgetting. Fame is very very fickle! But my TV show Supernatural had a really invested and pretty amazing fanbase, so yeah, I do still get fans coming halfway across the country— or farther!—just to see, or a lot of the time to actually put in the time and money to adopt an animal, which is pretty amazing. I even had to figure out a remote sort of home visiting system so we could do checks on all the people who come from hundreds of miles away! And none of that I can possibly begrudge—I'm totally aware my blessings of previous success were a huge help in getting this off the ground. That and the generosity of my friends & fans, and the amazing team of staff and volunteers who have absolutely transformed my dream into this amazing reality where we're really making a difference.
> 
> A.S:  
> Don't be too modest on us, now. You must have worked pretty hard yourself.
> 
> J:  
> I try! It's harder work than you'd think, physically and also emotionally. It's such a rollercoaster. Anything can happen any day, you get the really good, the really bad, the _bizarre_ , with constant day-to-day tasks to keep on top of, not to mention keeping up the charity profile, donation drives, administration, staff on that side—it's crazy, relentless stuff, but I have never been happier.
> 
> A.S:  
> What have been some of the good highlights of the past year?
> 
> J:  
> We had a girl travel to see the shelter all the way from Australia, can you believe it? And when she got here, she wanted to adopt a kitten, but of course—no luck, you know how it goes. We'd rehomed our last kitten two weeks ago. And you know what she does? She adopts this old dog, our most elderly animal, a real old gent of a German Shepherd mix, a beautiful guy but completely overlooked by everyone because he's old, you know? I thought he'd be here until he died and it made me sad. But she comes along and falls in love with him! It was this whole big thing, getting this poor guy back to Australia, but the dog adored her and she loved him and she still sends me weekly photos of the two of them running around. I swear he's transformed into a dog five years younger. Amazing.
> 
> A.S:  
> The weirdest moment?
> 
> J:  
> We had a lady bring in a parrot she'd found literally just hopping down the sidewalk. And this bird had a filthy mouth! We had it on the reception desk the first day because it was funny, it kept repeating phrases from Seinfeld, and then after about half a day it just started cursing, all sorts of awful stuff, over and over! It was still hilarious, of course, but we get families coming in, so we had to stash him in my office. Luckily his owners were found the next day.
> 
> A.S:  
> Don't worry, I won't ask about the worst moment now. We know as well as anyone there are enough of them in this business.
> 
> J:  
> Yeah, I've seen some pretty awful things—neglect and abuse and death. But every time I get so upset and start ranting and raving about how can such awful people exist, my partner says, "Look around at the people you work with every day. Look in a mirror, you moron, there's a whole lot of good people here to fix the stuff the bad people do." He's got a good head on his shoulders. He keeps me sane, to be honest.
> 
> A.S:  
> He?
> 
> J:  
> Yeah, he. A year or so ago, you know, that would be some scandal, a big secret, my agent would be shouting at me. Now I don't have a Hollywood career to worry about! I don't care if it's ruined! This is my career, where people might look at me curiously for a second, then nod and keep talking about the new pet licensing state laws.
> 
> A.S:  
> No juicy tidbits for us, then?
> 
> J:  
> Come on, since when are you a gossip magazine? [laughs] It might not be a big deal for me any more, but my privacy and his is still pretty important to the both of us. I can tell you that he's amazing and I couldn't have managed the last year without him and he pretty much makes me smile even more than a boxful of kittens.
> 
> A.S:  
> That sounds good enough for us. Jared, what's in store for you from now on?
> 
> J:  
> My hands are totally full with what I'm doing right now, but I have ideas! I want to expand on the programs I touched on in the January article, and I'm thinking of starting up a fund for new shelters, maybe a mentoring program now that I've been there, done that, to help other people who are new to it start up projects centered around animal welfare.
> 
> A.S:  
> That all sounds very exciting! We believe you're a real asset to this community. Thanks again for coming in today, Jared.
> 
> J:  
> No problem, thanks for inviting me! I can't believe a year has gone by already. Here's to next year, and hopefully a lot more than that.  
>  _Interview by T. Cook; Photos by E. Carpenter_
> 
> END


End file.
